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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26298781">Don't Fall In Love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentFcknHill/pseuds/SilentFcknHill'>SilentFcknHill</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Beauty and the Beast (1991), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types, Disney - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Background Cogsworth/Lumiere and Fife/Webster if you squint, Bondage, Christmas, Classical Music, Dark, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, Manipulation, Mental Health Issues, Mild Blood, Misogyny, Obsession, Pining, Sexual Content, Songfic, Supernatural Elements, Violence, suicidal content</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:08:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>65,439</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26298781</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentFcknHill/pseuds/SilentFcknHill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I attempt to fix the depressing mess that was Beauty And The Beast: The Enchanted Christmas by answering a few simple questions:</p><p>What if Belle and Maurice had never left the village and found the castle?</p><p>Just what sort of plans had Forte been scheming?</p><p>How did the Enchantress know about Adam and the castle in the first place?</p><p>Why did the curse affect Forte differently than the others?</p><p>Do the lyrics of Forte's villain song have a deeper meaner than they appear on the surface?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adam/Forte (Disney), Beast/Forte (Disney)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Don't Fall In Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a headcanon-filled birthday gift for JCMorrigan! Sorry it's so late, I tried my best! I also mixed the animated Disney universe's own version history with some real life history of 18th century France and Europe, so if there are mistakes in those areas it was probably intentional.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Christmas. Normally, Maestro Forte despised the holiday. He hated most holidays as a matter of fact, but Christmas in particular had earned his ire with its relentless cheer and hope.</p><p> </p><p>This year, however, he intended to take advantage of the holiday’s good fortune. Instead of settling for being annoyed at the hope and cheer of others, perhaps it was time for him to take initiative. To take fate into his own hands.</p><p> </p><p>Sitting in front of a large mirror in his chambers as he considered what the day would have in store, he began to apply his makeup precisely in the way a court composer of high esteem should wear it. If they wanted to be taken seriously, that is.</p><p> </p><p>And if Forte was anything, it was serious. Everyone knew it, and he enjoyed a formidable reputation around the castle because of it. It imbued him with honor in title, and being intimidating allowed him to get what he wanted more often than not, lest anyone dare cross him.</p><p> </p><p>The only person he <em>couldn’t</em> seem to sway to his will was Prince Adam, Dauphin of France, the target of his fascination and the current master in residence of the castle since the King and Queen were no longer living.</p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately, Adam was not yet able to fully take the throne. Normally he would have been crowned when his father passed, but that had not been the case due to certain other factors that had delayed his succession to the throne even after the King’s demise.</p><p> </p><p>Adam’s uncle, the Duke of Brittany, had convinced the King that Adam needed more time to become responsible and stable enough for the throne. The King, always having been rather susceptible to outside political influence and pressures, had conceded to that stipulation.</p><p> </p><p>The time when Adam could be crowned as King was growing ever closer but until his 21<sup>st</sup> birthday an interim ruler, <em>conveniently</em> the Duke himself, held the position as regent. This meant leaving Adam a lot of free time and almost no accountability to keep him in check.</p><p> </p><p>As a result of these factors as well as his naturally prickly demeanor, the Prince could be quite the terror to work under. Most who were unfortunate enough to cross his path would complain that often days he acted like nothing more than a spoiled and immature tyrant, yelling and degrading and making demands of anyone in his immediate vicinity.</p><p> </p><p>Perhaps that much was true, but Forte had always admired Adam’s strong will and intensity, and he saw great potential in the Prince….if only he were to be surrounded by the right influences to guide him...influences that Adam had never had growing up as he had been treated poorly by his parents, often being too difficult for them to handle.</p><p> </p><p>No one really knew exactly what made him the way he was, all the King would admit was that his son had been born with some sort of behavioral conduct disorder that made him difficult to manage. Really, though, it just seemed as though his parents didn’t care to try to understand him.</p><p> </p><p>Adam had spent most of his youth in the care of tutors, as most offspring of nobility did. Perhaps due to bad experiences with both the tutors and his father, it seemed as though somewhere along the line he had grown resentful of authority and that inner rage caused him to become very temperamental.</p><p> </p><p>Being a spoiled only child made it even worse. He was the King and Queen’s only heir which would normally seem quite unusual but, according to the gossip of chambermaids, the pregnancy and birth of Adam had caused life-threatening complications and rendered the Queen infertile thereafter.</p><p> </p><p>The King’s illegitimate children with his various mistresses hardly counted as heirs and, unable to try again with his wife, they instead focused on having tutors around to train their only son to be perfect. Their priority had clearly been in preparing him to take over the throne rather than in ensuring he grew into a decent human being.</p><p> </p><p>Adam had many intrinsic physical talents, particularly fencing and horseback riding. His parents, however, only wanted him trained in the more mundane and cultured aspects of royalty, so they didn’t allow him to pursue the sort of adventurous avenues he wanted. Battle and conquest were the realms of the Kings of old, they would say, not Adam’s new generation of decadent and pampered royalty.</p><p> </p><p>According to them, he needed to spend less time bruising up his fencing instructors and climbing rooftops and more time learning the difference between twenty different kinds of cutlery and all the various ways to address different nobles below him.</p><p> </p><p>It seemed a hypocritical thing, really, seeing as the King had loved hunting and horseback riding himself when he was a young man and had once even led the campaign of war in person. It made sense to Forte, though, why the King would want a safer life for his son even if it wasn’t entirely fair. He had his reasons, of course, even though Adam didn't seem to think so.</p><p> </p><p>The Queen had already passed away before Forte had begun serving the throne but, as for the King, Forte could recall how Adam would frequently get in trouble for disobeying his father’s wishes by taking initiative in a situation where it was not appropriate to do so or partaking in some daring and foolhardy feat.</p><p> </p><p>Staring into his own face in the mirror as he applied the finishing touches on his makeup, Forte indeed recalled the many ways that the Prince’s father used to try so very hard to tame his son. He had likely thought that maybe if he forced some sort of responsibility or commitment onto Adam, the Prince would automatically grow up and act his age.</p><p> </p><p>For that among other reasons, the King had tried many times to set Adam up with various romantic matches he had chosen himself, mainly noblewomen and royals from within and close outside the country, sometimes from their own family abroad. Predictably, it never turned out well.</p><p> </p><p>It was amusing, really, how the King had thought that those simple girls could ever be a proper match for Adam. Someone as robust in character as Adam needed <em>far</em> more than a pretty face and an idle brain to truly satisfy him. They would bore him, and when he got bored, he got <em>mean</em> for fun.</p><p> </p><p>Needless to say, the ladies always left their first encounters with Adam in tears. He seemed to enjoy testing their resolve, seeing how long it would take for them to leave him, and indeed it never took long. Yes, it became apparent very quickly that women were far too weak in character for a man like Adam.</p><p> </p><p>The King was left time and time again frustrated with his son, realizing that Adam just didn’t care about any of that nonsense. All he cared about was acting out and getting his way, and in fact it had been this very habit of Adam’s that had come to change everything, though luckily it had ended up working out for Forte in the long run.</p><p> </p><p>During Christmas Eve of 1773 the Prince had run away from his home, which at the time had been the palace of Versailles. Forte could remember it very vividly as he had been residing there the night the incident had occurred and everything had went into lock-down.</p><p> </p><p>At the time nobody knew exactly why Adam had run away, only whispers of unproven rumors were ever passed around and no one had dared to ask for confirmation, though Forte had his own suspicions. All that <em>was</em> known for sure was that one night, a seemingly average Christmas Eve, everything went to hell.</p><p> </p><p>Armed guards tore apart the festivities and stormed the grounds interrogating everyone in the dark of the evening, fear was on nearly every servant’s face, and the King wouldn’t emerge from his chambers, leaving everyone to guess what was happening in his own palace.</p><p> </p><p>Naturally, when word got around, everyone feared the worst. How could the Prince vanish without a trace, without alerting any of the guards around his room? And more worrying, how could a Prince, once gone, take care of himself outside of the palace grounds?</p><p> </p><p>Forte himself had known better than to fear for Adam’s safety, though. Unlike the others, he knew how strong and resilient Adam really was. That he wasn’t the helpless, spoiled Prince everyone else saw him as. He could indeed take care of himself just fine.</p><p> </p><p>No, Forte’s concern was more in that Adam might decide never to return at all, that things would never go back to normal around the palace again. For surely if Adam had reached his wit’s end and left, it was for a good reason. Unlike what most people thought, Adam didn’t just do things for no reason.</p><p> </p><p>Just like how, in hindsight, Adam’s previous hobby of climbing up buildings had turned out not to be just a rebellious random stunt for attention after all. It had been preparation for his escape because, as it turned out, Adam had snuck out of his room that night by way of the rooftops.</p><p> </p><p>The Prince had taken his horse and rode off from the stables, though he hadn’t gotten far from the grounds before he was caught. According to the King once Adam was retrieved, his son’s intention had been to make everyone upset, to get some sort of attention for himself.</p><p> </p><p>Forte, though, had suspected more at play. He remembered that had also been the day where he had heard the King bicker with one of Adam’s tutors that Adam had mistreated yet another potential suitor and that he was very cross with him. That he would have to punish him severely.</p><p> </p><p>The composer had been listening in to their conversation. He overheard a lot that no one thought he could hear. They thought him too focused on playing his music to eavesdrop, but a man of his skill needn’t use his whole mind to play a simple melody to keep listeners occupied.</p><p> </p><p>That is precisely what he would do when he wanted information: play something that seemed complex to the musically uninformed while secretly listening in to their conversations, trying to put together the pieces of a puzzle he wasn’t entirely sure would even fit. He took advantage of this often, as the King would usually request Forte's musical services when he was stressed, which put Forte right in earshot of the action.</p><p> </p><p>It was so easy to snoop that way, but sometimes all he heard while eavesdropping was inconsequential nonsense. What he had learned of interest <em>that</em> evening though, was that when the Prince was found that night and returned by royal guards he was confined to a furnished chamber up in the tower, locked up and windowless.</p><p> </p><p>Forte had not slept a wink that night, wondering about Adam. By the time he came out of his quarters for work the next morning Adam was unfortunately already gone, sent away by his father to the summer palace in Alsace to reside with servants as punishment for his misdeeds.</p><p> </p><p>That final little Christmas Eve stunt had been enough to make the King give up entirely on keeping Adam around, as he had supposedly disgraced the royal name one too many times to get away with it any longer. It was final, he was cut off for the time being.</p><p> </p><p>Forte had questioned this decision to himself that morning, wondering what the King could possibly do without his only legitimate heir around to train for the throne, but this obstacle didn’t seem to change anything in the King’s mind.</p><p> </p><p>The King was desperate to make Adam someone else’s problem, and equally as desperate to displace him from the family's good graces until the young man learned his lesson. Despite all logic he thought the peaceful countryside might be good for the Prince’s temperament, and so it came to be that Adam stayed in the summer palace from then on.</p><p> </p><p>He had his own servants to teach and look after him, many who had already resided there permanently as round the clock staff. Truly it was an impressive royal court consisting of several hundreds, not as much as the several <em>thousands</em> who lived in Versailles but even more impressive since they were all only there to serve upon one person and not a whole family.</p><p> </p><p>Some of said staff were not locals though and instead were sent or chose to go with Adam such as Forte himself and many others, most notably a British housekeeper named Mrs. Potts and her extended brood of children, who had always been rather fond of the Prince.</p><p> </p><p>Being such a matronly figure, she seemed to love Adam in a maternal sort of way just as she did her own brats. On the outisde it appeared to make the Prince uncomfortable to be smothered upon. His own mother had died of smallpox when he was only ten, and love was something his father had always rather callously deprived him of.</p><p> </p><p>It was strange, really, since the King was known to be a rather mild-mannered man otherwise and only directed his ire at his son. Though, to be fair, Adam<em> had</em> ruined a lot of potential alliances with neighboring kingdoms by mistreating potential brides, so it was objectively understandable why the King had been so frustrated.</p><p> </p><p>But as far as Forte was concerned, it was all for the best. He had never met the Queen so he couldn’t speak of her parenting style from experience, but he knew that Adam’s father hadn’t understood his son in the slightest and so he never would have been able to marry him off to someone suitable. Trying was folly.</p><p> </p><p>Adam seemed difficult and the King, like the young ladies he tried to match his son with, took all of it too personally. They didn’t understand how Adam was, that he only <em>acted</em> difficult on the outside...pushed people away without always meaning or truly intending to.</p><p> </p><p>But Forte saw right through that defense mechanism. He knew it was only because Adam, much like Forte himself, was afraid of being vulnerable. Of opening up and being abandoned, of being <em>rejected</em> like his parents had always rejected him.</p><p> </p><p>So as a result, Adam would test people before letting them get close. He would act annoying and often even cruel to them to see how much they could take from him, if they could handle him at his worst. If their love and loyalty to him was truly unconditional.</p><p> </p><p>Of course most people didn’t pass the test, and that was absolutely fine. Adam didn’t allow anyone close to him easily and not everyone was up for the challenge, but Forte had been patient and weathered the storm up until this point. Unlike Forte, most people just weren’t cut out for such things and it was better they not waste Adam’s time.</p><p> </p><p>In Forte’s opinion, anyone without anything of value to offer should not be taking up space in the Prince’s life to begin with, so it was good riddance. In fact, if Forte had it his way most of the entire castle staff would be sent off because often times they just caused more problems than they solved.</p><p> </p><p>Until he felt secure enough in his position in Adam’s graces to advise him on such matters, though, he would have to be content with tolerating the others for the time being. Especially today, the dreaded Christmas gala where he would have no choice but to interact with them.</p><p> </p><p>Now that his makeup is pristinely applied, Forte collects his dark hair into his hands and ties it back, tucking any stray locks behind his ears. He then reaches for his long grey periwig, sliding it smoothly on his head so it is secure and giving himself a final inspection in the mirror to make sure everything was as it should be.</p><p> </p><p>He was normally already quite particular in general, most would even call him overly controlled and controll<em>ing</em>, but on this special occasion he needed to be even <em>more</em> discerning. Everything had to be <em>perfect </em>today. The very course of his life depended on it.</p><p> </p><p>So when, and <em>only</em> when, Forte is satisfied that not a single molecule is out of place, he takes a deep breath in anticipation and gets up to leave his quarters. He had big plans for today, indeed.</p><p> </p><p>But just as he is about to open his door to leave, a knock sounds upon it from the other side and startles him. Furrowing his brows in annoyance at the intrusion, he pulls the door open quickly and doesn’t even wait to see who it is before barking out an abrupt ‘what do you <em>want</em>?’</p><p> </p><p>Standing before him is a surprised Senor la Cuerda, one of the musicians in his orchestra. La Cuerda had originally merely been a butler, but once Forte took residence in the castle and began taking on proteges and hiring musicians, la Cuerda had insisted on joining the orchestra.</p><p> </p><p>He had claimed to have proficient skill on the violin, and that turned out to be true enough to earn him a spot. La Cuerda had quickly proven himself reliable and capable, and so he currently served as the First Chair concertmaster in the orchestra….but what was he doing here now?</p><p> </p><p>Forte scanned the man up and down with a grimace, trying to figure out why he was bothering him uninvited like this when he had given him strict instructions the day before to help the orchestra set up in the grand hall as soon as he woke up that morning.</p><p> </p><p>Tilting his fancy hat in a small bow of respect, the violinist pulls himself together and politely begins to explain himself. “Apologies for the interruption, Maestro Forte. I simply came to inform you, as you asked, that everything is set up in the grand hall and we are ready to begin final rehearsals upon your arrival.”</p><p> </p><p>Oh. Yes. Right. Forte <em>had</em> asked la Cuerda to come update him once everything was set up. It must have slipped his mind in the midst of everything else he had to worry about.</p><p> </p><p>Rubbing at the temples of his head to get rid of a nasty migraine, the composer nods in acceptance of this and adopts a less hostile, if still short, tone. “<em>Yes</em>, that’s right,” he says with a heavy sigh. “I’m going to put <em>you</em> in charge of rehearsals today. I’m busy with other matters at the moment.”</p><p> </p><p>“But Maestro-” la Cuerda began in disbelief. Forte was such a strict leader and he always insisted on being in control of everything himself, being able to oversee every little detail to make sure it was perfect. Delegating was not Forte’s forte, so to speak.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve given you your task. I trust you won’t mess it up, la Cuerda,” Forte interrupts with finality as he pushes past to get out of the doorway. It sounded more like a warning than an actual declaration of faith. A reminder that he better <em>not</em> mess up.</p><p> </p><p>“Si, Maestro,” la Cuerda conceded with a confused expression, bowing again even though Forte was currently walking away and couldn’t see it. “I will take care of it for you.” Though he couldn’t imagine what Forte had to do that could be more important than rehearsals for the big gala.</p><p> </p><p>But Forte had stopped thinking about rehearsals the moment la Cuerda was out of his line of sight. All he was focused on now was mustering up the courage to walk down the hallway toward the West Wing where he knew Adam would be, likely getting ready for the holiday celebrations himself.</p><p> </p><p>Even though the Prince was often ill-tempered he still seemed to enjoy Christmas every time it came around, if only because it was the perfect opportunity to receive gifts and well-wishes and make everything about him even more than usual.</p><p> </p><p>Feeling bad for him for the loss of his parents, his servants would spoil him absolutely <em>rotten</em> on Christmas, regardless of his ‘misbehavior’...which was frequent. Though Forte really couldn’t grudge the Prince for his temper, even if it was often hard to navigate.</p><p> </p><p>Adam had always been rather stubborn and willful, but things had only gotten worse ever since his father had passed away nearly two years ago. Forte suspected that Adam had never fully processed it, nor the death of his mother, in large part because his relationship with his parents was so tense to begin with.</p><p> </p><p>After all, even though the King had sent him away under the guise of it being like some sort of reform school, the palace was no school, and King Louis was no altruist in intention. Instead of being a proper role-model in his son’s life like a father should, Adam had been left rather surreptitiously in the presence of the servants alone.</p><p> </p><p>Many of them, such as Mrs. Potts and the head of staff Cogsworth, took pity on the young man and had attempted to guide Adam through those turbulent years in their own way...but even on the best of days they were no match for his intense energy, and so he had never truly received any guidance even after his childhood.</p><p> </p><p>Sadly, any hope of Adam not having his development arrested had died along with the late Queen Marie six years before her husband as, back during the summer of 1768, Queen Marie had fallen ill with smallpox and succumbed to her condition.</p><p> </p><p>King Louis XV, himself previously ill from a particularly bad sickness that had almost claimed his life in childhood, had recovered from his own bout with smallpox at the time. But, left in a weakened state, his body had aged faster and eventually given out under the weight of lingering grief over the loss of his wife and subsequent mistresses who also contracted illnesses.</p><p> </p><p>It seemed that despite being a poor father, Louis the Beloved had been an involved partner indeed and ultimately could not live with the loss of his lovers. Word had it that he even went to his grave never fully absolving Adam of the guilt of weakening his mother through birth.</p><p> </p><p>If only the King <em>himself </em>had not been so weak as to allow love of all things to be his downfall. Maybe then the Prince wouldn’t have to suffer as deeply as he suffered nowadays, feeling the burdens that should never have been placed on him so young. Forte couldn’t help but pity the man, to feel for him.</p><p> </p><p>That’s why, despite being pushed away at every turn, the composer was always determined to be there for his master in such troubled times, to provide him with the companionship and understanding that Adam never had elsewhere. A bond that wasn’t superficial, one that was rather built on mutual suffering.</p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, if anyone was equipped to relate to such pain and darkness, it was Forte himself. Little did anyone know because he was such a private man, Forte too had had a trying life.</p><p> </p><p>In fact, the events of his own life had arguably shared a lot of similarities with what he knew of Adam’s, which gave him insight into the Prince that no one else had.</p><p> </p><p>A middle child of a lower-middle-class family, Rafael Giovanni Forte had been born on November 5<sup>th</sup> 1719 in London, the son of an Italian father and a French mother. Like Adam, he had not had a close relationship with his parents, but unlike Adam he had not been born into great wealth or esteem.</p><p> </p><p>His father, an undertaker, was often absent, traveling across the country for long periods at a time as Smallpox swept across the lands and bodies outnumbered available workers. As such, he was ultimately unable to provide much assistance in raising the three children, but he was not a cruel man.</p><p> </p><p>He was hardworking, but distant and aloof and better suited toward the company of the dead than the living. Not the sort to provide affection toward his family when he was around and, much like Forte himself, rather morose in demeanor.</p><p> </p><p>But growing up around corpses was certainly fascinating, and Forte would often turn to them for inspiration in his music. Sometimes he would place his fingertips on their arms, the cold emptiness of their flesh bringing him a peaceful reminder of his father.</p><p> </p><p>Forte’s mother, on the other hand, was strict and unpleasant and gave her middle child no praise or attention, only responsibilities and criticism. There was always a deep, mutual hatred shared between the two of them that had never been mended and only increased as he got older.</p><p> </p><p>Forte had often sensed that she was unkind to her children because she resented them, both for being a burden on her and for making their father spend so much time away just to provide for them. Forte, as the sibling that seemed the most disconnected from the family unit, received the brunt of this ire.</p><p> </p><p>Financially they never had to go without and did pretty well for themselves during the seasons when sickness ran rampant and provided plenty of dead bodies to capitalize on, but things were not exactly stable either and so there was a layer of unpredictability that added to tensions in the household.</p><p> </p><p>This only increased when Forte was at the age of twelve and his father died in a rather horrible carriage accident on the road one Christmas. They had enough inheritance to survive off of for awhile, but in order to keep going, Forte’s much older brother took up his father’s place at work, and like their father he worked away from home.</p><p> </p><p>His mother also had to take up work on the side as a seamstress. This meant Forte, being the second eldest, was expected to look after his infant brother, of which he had no interest. He would frequently shirk his duties by escaping into the fantasy of his own dreams in life, his own passions that his mother disapproved of.</p><p> </p><p>Namely music. Even though he proved exceptionally talented at a young age, his mother was not impressed as she had found music too soft and thought that a boy needed to have more realistic interests. She wanted him to be a practical trade worker like his brother and father, not some dandy in a tacky outfit.</p><p> </p><p>Besides, she had oft insisted, chasing the mirage of fame through music was not a steady way to make money, to provide for the family. And that’s really all she cared about. Not wanting the best life for her offspring, but rather to ensure that they were able to take care of <em>her </em>so she didn’t have to work. In her mind, music wouldn’t accomplish this.</p><p> </p><p>Only men born into nobility were expected to pursue the arts, as only they were thought to have the talent, time and finances to really become successful at it. Surely someone haling from a family of relatively minor social status could never make a name for themselves, and so she didn’t like this deluded dream.</p><p> </p><p>Nor did she like how pursuing it caused Forte to leave his younger brother on his own and spend time reading and writing in his room when he should have been babysitting, and she <em>especially</em> did not like when he had gotten together some money and used it for himself, buying his own musical instruments.</p><p> </p><p>She would try to dismantle them, but Forte would keep fixing them and so she yelled and nagged at him even more often after that. Partly because his practicing was too loud, partly because he wasn’t helping out enough around the house, and partly because she had suspected him of stealing the money from her to pay for it in the first place.</p><p> </p><p>But she couldn’t prove that. No one could. Even at such a young age, he was too smart to let himself get caught, and too focused on honing his craft to let her negativity distract him from his goals, which were to get out of that place for good and become famous.</p><p> </p><p>And sure enough, at the age of sixteen, he had been able to save up enough money to leave home for good. But unlike Adam being sent away by force by his father, this was entirely purposeful on Forte’s part. He had no love lost for his family.</p><p> </p><p>There were no heartfelt goodbyes, no apologies, no explanations. He was there one Christmas night and gone by twilight of New Year’s after a particularly bad argument, never to look back. On to greater things, grand accomplishments he knew he was capable and deserving of achieving.</p><p> </p><p>Self-reliant and ambitious, he had left home with the intention of making a name for himself across Europe, and even though he knew it would be a rough start he was determined to make it big no matter the cost. No matter how how much time and labor it took.</p><p> </p><p>He struggled at first to be taken seriously due to his young age, but against all odds he was indeed both insanely talented and a hard worker and was able to find work when he was lucky enough to happen upon mentors who were willing to give him a chance despite not having any formal education in music and being self-taught.</p><p> </p><p>The ones who gave him a chance were always quick to be impressed at how this young prodigy was so well-versed, intelligent, determined and naturally talented, if sort of off-putting in demeanor. Many of his mentors, particularly those from the church, did not share his morbid take on music, though they supported his ventures nonetheless.</p><p> </p><p>His focus was in keyboard-instruments: the organ, harpsichord and piano specifically, but he had a vast understanding of most instruments and could work his way around them one way or the other. He could even sing to an extent though he didn’t prefer to, and could create, play, interpret and identify music by ear, having perfect pitch.</p><p> </p><p>This reputation as a savant in his field made it even easier to get the jobs he wanted. He would stay in each position for awhile, getting as much as he could from each mentor and then leaving to climb further up the ladder, each time gaining more experience and having a more impressive resume and therefore being taken in by more and more influential people in the industry.</p><p> </p><p>A key to his success was also that, with each mentor that Forte would work under, he would go digging for their secrets just in case he needed the information later. Most of them he got along with well enough, and he would stay working for them until they outlived their usefulness.</p><p> </p><p>There was one mentor, though, with whom things had ended...badly. For some reason he had had the <em>audacity</em> to plan on taking a job that Forte had wanted rather than recommending Forte for the position.</p><p> </p><p>When Forte had needed leverage against this particular mentor, he turned to a letter he had found. It had been written by the mentor, a married man with children, detailing his affair with the wife of a nobleman. Needless to say, a highly sensitive matter.</p><p> </p><p>Forte had confronted him calmly, explaining his two options. The first was that Forte would release the scandalous letter to the nobleman’s court, ensuring either a death sentence or at the very least the mentor’s family to fall into poverty and disgrace.</p><p> </p><p>The second option was for the mentor to spare himself and his family this shame by jumping out of the window right then and there, taking his own life and naming Forte as his recommendation for the job in his place. Forte had even forged a letter of recommendation, ready for the mentor to sign.</p><p> </p><p>‘I hear your elderly mother requires constant care,’ Forte had insinuated casually. ‘I wonder how long she could survive on the streets.’ Needless to say, some rather unlucky civilians who happened to be walking below the building at the time had a harrowing experience that day.</p><p> </p><p>Once Forte got that job, he continued to live for a few years in London until the age of twenty-one when he had learned through his elder brother of his mother’s passing during the holidays.</p><p> </p><p>After the accidental death of her husband and then her youngest son, followed by Forte leaving home, she had taken to alcohol as a vice to the point it destroyed her health. Forte had no reaction.</p><p> </p><p>He had merely sat down for a pleasant Christmas dinner right after his brother had finished telling him. Her death only lit more of a fire under him to prove her wrong, and he took it as a signal that it was time to move on to even higher grounds, to fully leave her shadow behind.</p><p> </p><p>In the years between 1741 and 1772 he had spent a great deal of time in different countries, eventually succeeding in making a name for himself in the high-class music scenes of London, Prague, Amsterdam, Paris, Milan, Berlin, St. Petersburg, Vienna, and Madrid. Well-traveled, successful, a polyglot and shrewdly clever, he was truly a force to be reckoned with.</p><p> </p><p>He had even spent a few years back in London working under George Frideric Handel and aiding in his compositions before the man’s unfortunate passing. He had felt particularly secure working under Handel in that the man shared the same sort of….<em>pr</em><em>eference</em><em>s</em> as Forte did, specifically of the pretty male variety.</p><p> </p><p>As such, Forte found no judgment in that court for his unorthodox orientation, though of course his secret was far less open than Handel’s, who seemed to show no fear in being publicly spotted with the court pages.</p><p> </p><p>Forte on the other hand was far too occupied with actually working on music for that sort of thing. He had no time for dating, and no interest in love. He was more than happy to pour all of his efforts into advancing his career, and it certainly paid in dividends.</p><p> </p><p>Though, all things considered, he still wasn’t satisfied with his lot in life, because he still wasn’t at the very <em>top</em> in his field despite considering himself more talented than even his superiors and despite having an abundance of wealth and influence.</p><p> </p><p>His work in productions, playing and conducting other people’s music, was only ever meant to lead him elsewhere. Becoming a recognized composer of his own had always been his dream, aside from meeting his main musical inspiration Johann Sebastian Bach...which unfortunately now was a dream as dead as the man himself.</p><p> </p><p>It was only in Spring of 1772 when Forte had gotten the chance to perform for the royal court of France and was hired to play for their orchestra that he felt as though he had truly begun to make it in life, and he settled down in his travels shortly after to become an official citizen of France.</p><p> </p><p>The King had commissioned a giant opera house to be built as an attachment on Versailles only two years before Forte came to work there and it was the largest opera house in all of Europe, able to fit over 1500 people.</p><p> </p><p>It was originally conceived and built with the help of the King’s chief architect as an ode to the late Queen Marie who, unlike her husband who was a man of science, had been a real lover of music.</p><p> </p><p>Forte was very proud to have the chance to play there regularly and to have the king of France as a patron, but even though he was very confident in his abilities, it had still come as a shock that the King would enjoy his type of music.</p><p> </p><p>Despite being highly talented, intelligent and even renowned in the later years of his career, many listeners found Forte’s take on music far too macabre and complicated, and thus, much like the famous Mozart, it took a <em>particular</em> sort of cultured audience to truly appreciate his compositions.</p><p> </p><p>Thankfully the King of France had, for whatever reason, taken to his gloomy melodies despite not being a music enthusiast, likely because he was still knee-high in the angst of losing both the Queen and his favorite mistress a few years previous.</p><p> </p><p>It likely also reminded the highly religious monarch of the sort of severe and mighty hymns you might hear from Versailles’ grand chapel pipe organ during mass, of which he attended regularly. Having been inspired musically by Bach, who was quite religious, Forte’s music naturally took on that tone.</p><p> </p><p>Even though he played mass, Forte himself was not religious and was more fascinated theoretically by the study of occult, which he wisely kept to himself given the political climate at the time.</p><p> </p><p>But since his instrument of choice was the organ he did naturally draw inspiration from Gregorian chants and the like, combining those soulful, haunting melodies with the rhythm and pace of the dark operatic dramas he loved.</p><p> </p><p>The King had approved of his music and had given him the job on the condition that Forte would also agree to tutor his only son, a notoriously difficult student, in music.</p><p> </p><p>And so Forte had taught Adam music lessons when he first started working at Versailles, or at least he had<em> attempted</em> to. Adam had no real interest and didn't pay attention, mostly spending his time snarking out rude little quips and insults.</p><p> </p><p>For instance, when Forte had asked Adam what sort of music inspired him so he could get an idea of where to begin, Adam had tried to insist that his favorite piece was ‘Leck mich im Arsch’ by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, which was about as funny the first time he made that joke as it was the second and third.</p><p> </p><p>Still, Forte tried his best to keep Adam’s interest and please the King. After all, Forte now lived in the palace of Versailles itself as did most of the staff and government workers, and he spent his time there living in opulent wealth and abundance.</p><p> </p><p>It was a very favorable opportunity for him, and one that was granted to very few at all, let alone in <em>his</em> industry. A chance to serve the King of France directly? Truly you must be the top of your field to get such a chance, if not the result of nepotism.</p><p> </p><p>The only thing Forte wished for afterwards was to be the lead court composer, to have his own orchestra and proteges and not have to work under a senior Maestro that he did not particularly care for and who wasn’t as talented as him.</p><p> </p><p>They clashed frequently when it came to the direction of the music they created. Maestro Retif, the original court composer, was quite old and had very traditional views on what sort of music should be played, which did not include anything secular nor anything inventive and modern.</p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, Forte did not have to go through the trouble of killing Retif. His dream came true after just over a year of working at the palace when Retif had chosen to retire rather than follow Adam to Alsace, and Forte was indeed given the choice to be promoted and sent to reside in the summer castle with Adam and have more power and influence.</p><p> </p><p>He happily accepted this offer, knowing it would be the very thing he had striven for so long for, the end of his journey upwards. The lesser musicians would have to scramble for their entire lives to make a living, playing the music of others, to keep striving lest they fail. But with this opportunity he was secure, living in a castle and with an orchestra all his own.</p><p> </p><p>He could be an actual composer and focus on making and playing his own pieces exclusively, on setting his own legacy to be followed and studied for generations to come since court composers led the entire direction of their era’s musical evolution.</p><p> </p><p>He could achieve this by also working as a mentor to the lesser musicians in the new castle, assisting those who sought out his prestigious expertise and wanted to make it in the industry, if they were able to afford the high emotional and financial cost of studying under such a demanding teacher.</p><p> </p><p>It also meant more one-on-one time with Adam and a chance to prove himself and his craft useful to a man who thought it pointless because, unfortunately, it hadn’t taken Forte long to realize that the Prince didn't really care for as a musician him like the King had.</p><p> </p><p>Although Forte’s past dreams had come true now that he had everything else he wanted, he now found himself longing for the adoring audience of the Dauphin in particular, who he began to become interested in more as time went by...although perhaps ‘fixated’ would be a better word.</p><p> </p><p>In truth, the time he had spent serving Adam so closely had brought some truly alien feelings to the surface. Previously he had no interest in anyone, focused only on his career and not particularly enjoying the company of others as they talked too much and too thoughtlessly.</p><p> </p><p>He had, however, from a young age become enamored with the idea of the perfect male form. In his youth he would occasionally sketch out nude figures in his notebooks as he imagined them, though they never had faces, being only the idealized imagination of repressed and, according to his mother in his youth, sinful desire.</p><p> </p><p>Later on in his career before working for the King of France, some of the younger, more naive apprentices would try to seduce him to get further in the business, to take advantage of his highly esteemed and influential position to get a spot in orchestra or some such.</p><p> </p><p>He had no interest in them emotionally and he would never look them in the face, though sometimes he would toy with them, seeing what sort of damage he could inflict on their weak minds to entertain himself and whether or not any of them could live up to his image of the ideal body.</p><p> </p><p>Time and time again he was let down and left unsatisfied with the reality of their physical forms, and he had eventually given up hope of ever finding someone who looked as perfect as what resided in his dreams. That is, until meeting Adam.</p><p> </p><p>Upon their meeting he knew, Prince Adam was this perfect man: the fairest being to grace the planet and, beyond that, simply captivating in presence and personality. Now this young Prince made him feel certain things. Foreign, wonderful, <em>scary</em> things.</p><p> </p><p>Things that made him a nervous and guilty wreck. He could barely even stand to look himself in the mirror these days, too ashamed of the weakness of character and the perversions he saw reflecting back at him. What he tried so desperately to deny to himself.</p><p> </p><p>Even now, merely on his way to have a quick conversation with the Prince, Forte had to swallow the lump of nervousness in his throat as he reached the large doors to the Prince’s chambers. Even the sight of them was foreboding enough to give the normally fearless Maestro pause.</p><p> </p><p>He gathers himself and channels the confident, professional and suave man he affected in public and dares to knock upon the wooden panel of one of the doors before him. His knock hadn’t been as loud as he would knock on anyone else’s door, so he hoped he was heard.</p><p> </p><p>He could faintly hear a slight argument going on inside, and at this sign of conflict his body betrays him by having the slightest urge to turn and leave. To not put himself into the crossfire of Adam’s fiery wrath by circumstance of proximity.</p><p> </p><p>But no matter what, he never had done such a thing yet and never would. He wouldn’t abandon Adam no matter what. He must always remain irresolute and calm, and open to facing whatever challenges Adam could throw at him, all with grace and poise.</p><p> </p><p>Anything less would cause Adam to view him even more poorly. Besides, he simply <em>must</em> inform his master that the band is ready for the day’s festivities and keep him properly updated, or there would be hell to pay.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <b>                                            The quickest way to break your heart</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                   Make you depressed and ill</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                   Is to get tangled up inside</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                   The side effects could kill</b> </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A couple of milliseconds after his knock he hears the room inside fall silent, only to be almost immediately broken by a booming voice, of course Adam’s, demanding someone inside to open the door.</p><p> </p><p>Straightening his posture up as he hears the door opening, Forte narrows his eyes when he sees Madame de la Grande Bouche open up the door for him, looking rather worn down and sad which was unlike her normally boisterous and cheery demeanor.</p><p> </p><p>This wasn’t a good sign. The poor Prince must be having a tougher day than usual, and this incompetent woman surely must be making it worse. Forte ought to smack her upside the head for ruining the Prince’s mood. He would have, if Adam weren’t watching.</p><p> </p><p>No matter, Forte could help fix this problem. Ignoring her as he enters the room, he stands a few feet away from the Prince who is sat upon a comfortable plush chair near his bed, slouched over regardless and looking in a terrible mood.</p><p> </p><p>Madame de la Grande Bouche walks back over to the Prince and attempts to start tying up the numerous laces on the front of his boots, but he swats her hand away caustically.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re doing it wrong!” Adam yells impatiently. “Are you blind? <em>Those</em> laces don’t go there! You’ll make it too tight!”</p><p> </p><p>The servant offers an apology and with a nervous chuckle she attempts to retry, focusing her efforts on it entirely. Her thick hands were shaking in anxiety which only made the task more troublesome.</p><p> </p><p>As she does this, Forte looks on cautiously, judging her apparently careless hand-work. How hard could it be for someone who specializes in clothing to tie a godforsaken boot up?</p><p> </p><p>As he stares disapprovingly, the composer is prompted into speech by a sudden demand from Prince Adam. “<em>Well?</em> What do you <em>want</em>, Forte? I’m kind of busy here,” he huffs.</p><p> </p><p>A reminder that he is not welcome here yet. That Adam believes that Forte is not where he naturally belongs, and that he must have a reason. Forte, though, felt right at home by the Prince’s side, an unspoken right.</p><p> </p><p>Trying not be caught off guard by this aggressive greeting, Forte bows in reverence to his master and tries to collect his words. “Er, good morning, your highness. I apologize for the interru-”</p><p> </p><p>“Just get to the point! I don’t have all day!” Adam barks, squirming in his seat with arms crossed in anger. It was almost like karma for the way Forte had snapped at la Cuerda earlier for informing him of the same thing.</p><p> </p><p>Clenching his fists defensively as his brow lowers, Forte nonetheless gives in to Adam’s orders, as he always did. “Apologies, Master. I am simply here to inform you that the orchestra has been setting up early for your convenience and is currently ready for the day’s festivities in the grand hall.</p><p> </p><p>Rehearsals have begun and we wait only upon your leisure,” the composer informs with a graceful bow of his head, not daring to look Adam in the eyes lest he be on the receiving end of any unwarranted fury. That would jeopardize his plans for the day.</p><p> </p><p>But if Adam had heard any of that, he didn’t indicate it as he was currently too distracted with Madame de la Grande Bouche, trying to get her away from his shoes. “No! You’re just making it worse!” he criticized, clearly fed up.</p><p> </p><p>“Just <em>stop</em>! Don’t even bother if you’re too stupid to even do this one thing right!” he said, making a fuss and kicking objects around him to intimidate her and get her to leave him alone.</p><p> </p><p>The Maestro doesn’t even flinch as a stool Adam had kicked goes flying right past him and hits the opposite wall. Rather than splintering, it knocks loose a candelabra that had been hanging there, and the now-broken chains clang as they dangle limply above the poor abused stool.</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps I could help, Master?” Forte offers boldly, still keeping his gaze hesitant and furtive, only glancing upward every so often to assess the situation.</p><p> </p><p>If this woman was too incompetent to tie the shoes properly, then surely Forte could manage such a task with his strict attention to detail and desire to prove himself useful. Women were good for very little, after all, if anything.</p><p> </p><p>Forte, though, was very thorough and good with his hands, and had lots of experience maneuvering and tightening up strings. Of instruments, admittedly, but how hard could <em>shoelaces</em> be in comparison? At least they couldn’t snap and hurt you, unlike piano strings….and Adam.</p><p> </p><p>Indeed, when in a mood as he often was, handling the Prince could very much be akin to attempting to tune a piano wire that was strung way too tight. If you didn’t proceed with the utmost of caution, it would lash out at you.</p><p> </p><p>Forte had hoped that offering this humble service to the Prince might make him see how keen he was to help, as no one but Adam could ever be worthy of receiving such a demeaning service from a man of pride like Forte. Of making him <em>kneel</em> on the floor and ties his boots like a meager slave.</p><p> </p><p>But the younger man just exhaled in exasperation, running his hand through his long, light brown hair and scowling. “Forget about it, I’ll just do it myself,” he says venomously, giving the ashamed Grande Bouche a withering glare.</p><p> </p><p>He then does exactly that and leans over to start working on tying his own boots up, of course struggling immensely. Ironically, he seemed to be doing it the exact same way she had been. Madame de la Grande Bouche stood by his side with her head hung low in shame.</p><p> </p><p>Forte too stood still in his spot, venturing to be so bold as to stare down at his master, taking the opportunity now that the Prince is leaning forward to study with interest the traces of his form beneath his clothing.</p><p> </p><p>The way his silky hair fell in waves around his pretty, sulking face. The way the top of his loose-fitting blouse opened forward to reveal the slightest glimpse of his smooth collarbone. So bite-able. He really was so very lovely in features. Noble, and yet soft, like a lofty rose.</p><p> </p><p>The composer’s lips begin to part as he becomes enraptured in this breathtaking sight, and he does not realize that he has begun to bite down on his own lower lip with one of his sharp fang-like incisors until he starts to taste a hint of blood.</p><p> </p><p>It tastes…. good. He runs his tongue over that sharp tooth as he gets the sudden desire to bite Adam’s lip as well, to know how their blood would taste mixed together. Oh, that wonderful bitterness...</p><p> </p><p>But before he can really enjoy watching any further, his eyes widen and he makes a little ‘ump’ of surprise when Adam looks up from his boots and catches him staring. Forte’s now lightly-stinging mouth clamps shut as his eyes quickly flit to the side and he folds his hands in front of himself demurely.</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you still here, Forte? Don’t you have <em>work</em> to do?” Adam questions rudely with a frown, still stubbornly trying and struggling to figure out the intricacies of his complicated boots.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Master,” Forte says with yet another bow, both out of respect and to attempt to obscure the way his face was heating up with embarrassment at having been caught doing something so careless and disrespectful. He just hoped his makeup would hide his natural blush the way his rather baggy robes hid his shame. “Of course.”</p><p> </p><p>Deeming it unwise to linger a moment longer, Forte holds his impassive expression and swallows down the lump of sad resignation in his throat. It was not intuitive to allow such fantasies to overcome him now and break his concentration.</p><p> </p><p>Taking one last quick glance up at the Prince as though in apology for bothering him, the Maestro turns on his heel to exit the chambers at once, not wishing to provoke any further ire from his master who was clearly not in a good mood.</p><p> </p><p>But it’s okay, Forte tells himself as he makes his way down the corridors toward his music chamber. The tantrum did not anger Forte, and he tried his very best each day not to let all the ones like it offend or hurt him.</p><p> </p><p>It had been difficult at first not to react to it, but after time had passed and he had come to know the young master more, Forte had learned not to take it <em>as</em> personally against his fragile ego to the point where he couldn’t repress it in public.</p><p> </p><p>Of course he would much rather receive nothing but compliments and praise and appreciation, but that would likely have to wait until he had the right opportunity to get to know Adam more intimately. To get a chance to show off his genius talent and competence to his master.</p><p> </p><p>Forte knew deep down that Adam didn’t mean all of this hostility against him and that he was just like that with everybody, especially since nobody really understood Adam’s needs. Or so Adam thought, at least.</p><p> </p><p>There was in truth <em>one</em> person who did, because Forte had made it his mission to study the young Prince, to really analyze him so as to hopefully attend to his whims better, to get in his good graces and become his confidant. To learn the <em>intricacies</em> of his psyche like an instrument.</p><p> </p><p>It was tough to do since Adam had such trust issues, not to mention he was often busy and distracted by other goings-on in the castle. It was hard to compete for attention around there with so many servants, and Forte grudged them all for it.</p><p> </p><p>Both for stealing <em>his</em> spotlight and for wasting Adam’s time when he could have been spending it with someone who actually had something to offer, someone who could help him in ways catered specifically and thoughtfully to him. Ways that only Forte could.</p><p> </p><p>Needless to say, having such ambitions did not put Forte in good graces with the rest of the castle staff and in fact they seemed to distrust him immensely. They never tried to include him in their little shenanigans or inside jokes, nor ever even really spoke with him.</p><p> </p><p>Not that he cared, but all he received most often was, at best, sideways glances and hushed whispers amongst them in his general direction and, at worst, raucous mockery from the more foolhardy among them. Few dared cross him directly, and yet none were polite to him.</p><p> </p><p>Aside from the motherly Mrs. Potts, of course, but she was nice to everyone so that wasn’t saying much. In fact, it was almost offensive how kind she was. After all, if you were nice to<em> everyone</em>, then how could any of those people know if it was genuine or not?</p><p> </p><p>Forte found her sickeningly sweet ways to be even more insulting for, unlike the jealous mockery of the others, surely her kindness had to be fake. No one was<em> that</em> nice and cheery all the time, not even someone so simple as she.</p><p> </p><p>Aside from her, the rest of the lot had seemed to distrust him since day one, and that had only increased ever since the accident last year where one of the castle staff, a lowly stonemason to be exact, had inexplicably taken a rather severe tumble down the grand staircase and severed his spinal cord, dying in the process.</p><p> </p><p>Forte had an alibi for the incident in that he had made sure he was in the presence of Prince Adam at the time. Unfortunately though he had not escaped suspicion entirely due to the words of that trifling boy Chip, youngest son of Mrs. Potts.</p><p> </p><p>Chip had alleged that he had seen Forte carefully place something under the carpet on the steps right before the maintenance crew were scheduled to work on the stairs...but those were nothing more than the tall tales of a child who liked to stave off boredom by indulging in fantasy, Forte had insisted.</p><p> </p><p>It was a believable explanation, as Chip was indeed known to exaggerate and make up stories on occasions so frequently that even his own mother was skeptical of his claims most of the time.</p><p> </p><p>Besides, due to Forte’s alibi, nobody of credit knew or could prove it was him and so it was merely regarded as a tragic accident, an unfortunate casualty of the trade. Adam had believed in his innocence and didn’t seem to care to look any deeper into it, and that’s all that mattered.</p><p> </p><p>Though Forte had never truly escaped the suspicion of his fellow servants, he couldn’t care less, nor did he worry about it affecting his reputation or conscience. He had been given no <em>choice</em> but to take action against this worker, after all.</p><p> </p><p>The man in question had been getting a little too close to the Prince, taking up too much of his time and attention with a bubbly personality and sense of humor that had seemed to amuse Adam. An infectious exuberance that Forte just couldn’t compete with.</p><p> </p><p>Not only had it made Forte insanely jealous, but he strongly believed that childish humor was not something the Prince should be entertaining from his staff. They were just trying to distract Adam from what made him who he was, to <em>change</em> him into someone more convenient for their own needs, against Adam’s best interest.</p><p> </p><p>If stepping up to look out for the best interests of his lord made Forte despised among the weaker of his kind, then so be it. Forte would always do what was best for his master, which meant keeping him away from harmful people one way or the other.</p><p> </p><p>Even if Forte was hated for it, even if people had to get <em>hurt</em>. It was for Adam’s own good, and that was the most important factor: protecting Adam from being led astray. Forte would save him from such a painful fate at <em>any</em> cost.</p><p> </p><p>Regardless, it didn’t bother Forte that the other servants didn’t seem to like him any. He had never made any effort to associate himself with them or their nonsense, and as long as most of them feared his authority he could care less how they felt about him as a person.</p><p> </p><p>The only person’s opinion he cared for was Adam’s. All he wanted was for the Prince to <em>notice</em> him, to appreciate his efforts, to see how hard he tried to be there for him and take care of him….but it always backfired, much to the musician’s chagrin.</p><p> </p><p>At first he had toyed with the idea of expressing his intentions through something forward like one of the numerous poems he had penned that he kept in his pockets at all times, or a bouquet consisting of flowers from the castle grounds, but….Adam didn’t like roses, and he liked sappy letters even less.</p><p> </p><p>Every time Forte had gotten some sort of token of his unwavering devotion together he had always stopped himself from going through with it at the last minute. Each time he would repeat the process of making something, fussing about it for too long, and then questioning what the hell he was even doing partaking in something so silly.</p><p> </p><p>The Forte of five years prior <em>never </em>would have indulged in so ridiculous and cheesy a fancy, in fact he would have scoffed at the mere idea of such a childish and emotional display. Whimsical poems and flowers were surely unlike him, <em>beneath</em> him even.</p><p> </p><p>But over the past couple years of serving Adam he had began to notice a change in himself, much to his distress. The more Adam pushed him away at every turn the more Forte wanted him closer, and it was taking a toll on his health.</p><p> </p><p>Though he tried to ignore it and pretend as though the master’s vitriol and scorn didn’t bother him, it turned out that repressing the pain and rejection every day only made it more persistent, only made it come out in other more self-destructive ways.</p><p> </p><p>He held it together in public, but in private the torment was almost enough to drive him mad. He could barely eat and he lost countless nights of sleep obsessing over the situation. Increasingly often he would have to <em>drink</em> himself into a state of rest just to find a moment’s peace.</p><p> </p><p>But each morning he would still awaken with the taste of wine and agonizing disappointment on his lips. It was only getting worse as time went by. He was becoming increasingly erratic, and that is why he had been given no choice but to take initiative and do <em>something</em> before his life spiraled too far out of control to be salvaged.</p><p> </p><p>And as he did in his darkest hours, he turned to music for the solution. The rest of the orchestra would be off in the great hall at this time to prepare for their work that night and so Forte could have the chamber all to himself, just like he wanted because he despised the company of others more often than not.</p><p> </p><p>Much to his irritation, however, when he walks in he finds that he is not entirely alone here. Fife, the resident piccolo player and certified imbecile, was seated upon one of the benches, fiddling with his instrument mindlessly as though it were some cheap toy to fidget with.</p><p> </p><p>Huffing in annoyance to announce his presence, Forte approaches the other musician. “What are <em>you</em> still doing here, Fife? You should be practicing with the rest of the orchestra,” he grunts in agitation, his hands on his hips as he glares down at the poor man in accusation.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as Fife hears Forte speak he jumps a bit in surprise, clearly having been too focused on whatever he was doing to notice his boss enter the room. The younger man looks nervous as he ceases tinkering with his piccolo.</p><p> </p><p>“M-Maestro Forte!” he squeaks in his obnoxious voice, looking rather anxious and shivery. “I-I-I-I...” He doesn’t look like he has any valid explanation for his presence, nor the courage to ask what Forte <em>himself</em> was doing here for that matter. His attempt at an excuse fizzles away and he doesn’t make eye contact.</p><p> </p><p>Sighing in exasperation, Forte yanks the broken piccolo away from his underling and inspects it closely. One of the key pegs was loose so he clicked it back in place with a look of disdain. If Forte didn’t respect all musical instruments so highly, he would have used this one to whack Fife on the back of his dimwitted head.</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t run off from the orchestra every time you get frightened, you know,” he scolds quickly, recalling how Fife would often get overwhelmed and insecure when trying to practice in other people’s company. Pathetic, really.</p><p> </p><p>Even though Fife was practically a beginner when it came to performing in orchestra, he was still in his thirties. He should have grown past stage fright by now. “If you want to get anywhere in this field, you’ll have to get used to being watched while you perform. That’s sort of the <em>point</em>, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>Shriveling under the intense scrutiny, Fife twiddles his thumbs worriedly and giggles like a guilty kid who had just been caught raiding the pantry for sweets.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah...You’re right, Maestro. If I ever want a solo, I should….I need to... toughen up?” he offered with a questioning doe-eyed expression, trying to find what he thought Forte wanted to hear to assuage his anger and disapproval.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Well</em>,” Forte snarked with a roll of his dark eyes at the mention of a solo for Fife, “if you <em>really</em> want a solo, you had better impress me tonight with your performance. I mean it, Fife. Your last practice was simply <em>unacceptable</em>!</p><p> </p><p>I could have <em>sworn</em> you had normal hands by looking at them, but it sounded like some oaf with breadsticks for fingers was attempting to scream into a twig! I <em>won’t </em>have you embarrassing me out there on my big day!”</p><p> </p><p>Blushing about a million shades darker in humiliation and shame and slight fear, Fife nods his head quickly in agreement. “Yes, Maestro. Yes! I--I’ll do better tonight, I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t convincing enough for Forte’s liking. Fife always sounded so goddamn <em>flippant</em>. Was this buffoon really not taking any of this seriously?? “<em>D</em><em>o</em> you? <em>Do </em>you promise?!” Forte snapped, leaning in threateningly close to loom over his terrified protege.</p><p> </p><p>“Because I’ll have you know that your shabby performance reflects poorly on <em>me</em>, and I’m<em> su</em><em>uuu</em><em>re</em> you don’t want to find out what I do to people who impede upon my image,” he warns sharply.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t any empty threat, either. Forte was truly not a man shy to take his revenge, and to take it liberally. It wasn’t just his former mentor or the stonemason that was close to Adam who had met their ends enduring Forte’s ambitious wrath.</p><p> </p><p>There had been others on that list, others who had gotten in Forte’s way and paid the consequences for it under his schemes and blackmail and manipulations. Rather, the ‘accidents’ and ‘suicides’ of his enemies had followed him since childhood.</p><p> </p><p>Forte had no compunctions about adding Fife to this list of casualties if need be, but it was still too early for that now. He still needed Fife to play tonight. For all his annoyances, Fife was still an object with a use so Forte would give him this last chance to prove himself.</p><p> </p><p>And seeing the worry in the wind-player's face, Forte realizes that he should calm his temper lest he make his underling too scared to play properly at all. A bit of fear was needed to motivate the lad, but too much would make him even more useless than normal.</p><p> </p><p>Sighing, he backs off and straightens his expression into mild disdain and apathy. “If you <em>do</em> somehow manage to pull it together and do well tonight, then and <em>only</em> then shall we visit the idea of a solo.</p><p> </p><p>Perhaps in my upcoming grand opera if you’re lucky. Do you think you can handle that, Fife?” Forte asked suspiciously, hesitantly holding out the piccolo for Fife to take back on the condition he would agree.</p><p> </p><p>At the mention of a solo in an opera, all fear seems to leave Fife’s face and he becomes instantly starry-eyed and dumbly excited. “Yes, Maestro Forte! I won’t let you down!” he chirps giddily, grabbing his instrument in agreement as he leaps up from his seat to merrily skip away off to orchestra, a renewed sense of motivation and purpose in his step.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, we’ll <em>see</em> about that.” Forte’s upper lip curls in disgust at the display, though he doesn’t seek to scold the unprofessional behavior. He’s merely glad that Fife has left and that he finally has the room alone with himself to practice because, despite what he had said to Fife about needing to practice with the band, Forte himself wanted some time alone before heading out there.</p><p> </p><p>It was important for him to do so. Fife was just a background musician after all, but Forte was the leading star and so he needed to really focus in quiet and solitude to make sure he could play his piece to perfection. This was a piece unlike any other, and it held the weight of the world on its shoulders so he needed all the time he could get.</p><p> </p><p>Sitting down at his harpsichord on the far side of the large stone room he takes a deep breath and begins to practice his composition, making sure he had it memorized by heart and that his fingers were nice and ready and prepped for it.</p><p> </p><p>Of course harpsichords never sounded as lovely as an organ, far too light, but at least it would allow him to practice alone because the only organs in the castle were in public places. They sort of needed to be, since they were so large that they needed an entire room to host them.</p><p> </p><p>Thankfully <em>this</em> room was practically soundproof and so no other living soul nearby would hear him in here from outside, he could be entirely alone to think and concentrate. No more interruptions.</p><p> </p><p>Yes, he loathed the company of others, but in truth, Forte also didn’t want to be around other people while he practiced <em>this</em> particular piece in large part because he didn’t want anyone to see how choked up it made him. It would just be shameful to show such weakness.</p><p> </p><p>At least during the actual performance he could avoid that by being turned away from his audience, but if he were surrounded on all sides by other musicians while practicing then there would be no hiding his emotions, for it was an emotional piece indeed.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t usually like to channel softer emotions in his pieces, in fact he preferred to deny having any altogether, but this piece was different. It was special because it was <em>designed</em> to express some very personal feelings.</p><p> </p><p>Of course, Forte had never been particularly good at expressing what feelings he <em>did</em> have so the only outlets he had available to him were to express them in practical ways such as being helpful and doing things to ease his master’s burdens, and more importantly through music.</p><p> </p><p>Since music was one thing he was the most adept at he often felt useless and depressed when he was unable to comfort his lord in other more traditional ways, especially when he wasn’t even given the chance to <em>try</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Adam seemed to think he and his craft rather superfluous, never having had any appreciation for the arts himself. If only Forte could show Adam how <em>beautiful</em> music could be. If only it was a language they shared. Hopefully after tonight, it would be.</p><p> </p><p>Forte did not believe that musical talent was something that could be taught, which is why he himself had opted never to attend any sort of school for music and instead had taught himself. After all, a virtuoso need not have a teacher when he already surpassed them all.</p><p> </p><p>But an appreciation of <em>listening</em> to music, on the other hand, could be passed down with the right experiences. If Forte could give Adam that experience then he was sure the Prince had the hidden depth inside to finally understand what made the Maestro and his craft special.</p><p> </p><p>But it would be more of a challenge than usual to catch Adam’s attention on <em>Christmas</em> when all he was concerned about was opening his numerous presents. Shifting the focus onto himself would be even more difficult for Forte today, but thankfully he had figured out a way around that.</p><p> </p><p>He would still perform a concerto with the rest of the musicians, but instead of playing his <em>special</em> solo with the rest of the orchestra he would play it afterward for the Prince as a gift. That way Adam would be inclined to listen since it was for and about <em>Adam…</em>which was Adam’s favorite subject.</p><p> </p><p>It would also ensure that none of the idiots in the orchestra like Fife and his ear-piercing piccolo, the goofy tubaist Gospodin Gusto, or that insufferable butler-violinist la Cuerda would be able to drown him out or distract from his music.</p><p> </p><p>It could be hard for a man like Forte who valued prestige and recognition to share the so-called stage with others in his field, though with such a booming and commanding instrument of choice as the pipe organ it wasn’t as difficult to be the center of attention as it would have been had he chosen a more subtle instrument.</p><p> </p><p>Still, he knew it was a risk to play a piece as Adam’s main gift because it wasn’t something he would have been interested in normally and it wasn’t a physical present he could open... but once Adam listened he was sure to change his mind.</p><p> </p><p>Playing his solo for Adam as a gift would ensure that all eyes were upon him, <em>especially </em>the Prince’s. The piece would even include singing, something which Forte had not previously done in this court, and at the end of the piece he intended to confess his feelings through the final lyrics.</p><p> </p><p>He had admittedly struggled for awhile to think of a way to get the Prince to sit still long enough to actually get a chance to play the full piece for him, but then it had hit him all the way back during the Prince's end-of-March birthday celebration. <em>Christmas!</em></p><p> </p><p>Christmas would grant him the perfect opportunity for a captive audience, to share his passion for music and touch the master's spirits. To give him the gifts of music, comfort and of feeling desired, which were much better presents than a physical object.</p><p> </p><p>Adam was frequently unhappy, much like Forte, so if Forte could become his one source of comfort then Adam would become reliant on that feeling and dependent upon him, and Forte could have him wrapped around his finger just like he wanted.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe then, once Adam saw the true value in Forte’s music rather than just seeing it as depressive noise, they could spend time together more frequently, sharing that and <em>other</em> passions with each other.</p><p> </p><p>Oh, the thought of playing for Adam regularly, alone, with the Prince admiring his work and even relying on it to help get him through dark emotional times...it sent tingles down Forte’s spine!</p><p> </p><p>That dream was the only thing that got the melancholy Maestro through most days of late, when he had often felt no point in continuing on at all. This Christmas plan gave him hope, which was a risky concept admittedly. That is why he had spent the past few months writing this masterpiece for Adam, <em>perfecting</em> it.</p><p> </p><p>It had to be relatively short compared to his usual pieces, as for the first time he would need to capture Adam's attention so the longer pieces would have to wait until he had won the Prince over already. But making it shorter was actually <em>harder</em> to do.</p><p> </p><p>It was regrettable to put a limit on such art, to cut out parts of something that were an integral part of who Forte was, to channel the creative process when it flowed so freely. Especially considering this piece would be so dear to him, illuminating the most vulnerable parts of his soul.</p><p> </p><p>Opening up terrified him but, oh, he could manage it if it meant winning Adam. Forte only hoped the young noble would appreciate all that his composer would be putting on the line for this moment. Then it would all <em>truly</em> be worth the risk.</p><p> </p><p>And yes, it <em>was</em> certainly a risk. But the thought of a life like he had now...ignored, devalued, berated, pining for what he couldn’t have...it wasn't worth living. This was his last chance to connect with Adam on a deeper level. If he couldn't...well, there was no point in being alive without a purpose.</p><p> </p><p>Adam was his master, and so Adam was his purpose. If Forte with all of his ambition and talent couldn't perform his duties for the royal family then he had utterly failed in life, and failure was something he could not live with. After all, what good was a court composer with no court to adore him?</p><p> </p><p>So after months of hair-pulling agonizing over this composition to create the perfect piece, he had finally finished it and now he was almost out of time as he practiced furiously. Today was the big day and, despite his nerves, he couldn't help but allow a flicker of optimism, of <em>hope</em>, to enter his heart for the first time.</p><p> </p><p>Before, hope had been nothing but a foreign concept too lethal to chance. But the one saving grace about this plan was that music was something he had <em>control</em> over. Even if he couldn’t trust anyone else, he had always been able to put faith into himself. Probably too much, most times.</p><p> </p><p>He had no doubt in his skill and talent as a musician and composer. All he needed was the opportunity to show it off fully, without the obfuscation of other orchestral musicians like that attention-hungry Fife and that over-zealous violinist trying to outperform and cover him.</p><p> </p><p><em>T</em><em>hen</em> Adam would see. See how he shines. See his value, what he has to offer. Then they could become close, closer than ever. The best of friends, and no one would be able to come between them or usurp Forte's place by his side. He could be the Prince's closest companion and confidant.</p><p> </p><p>If everything went according to plan, that is. Yes, tonight it would all be over, for good or for ill. The start of something wonderful, or the end of something horrible. Tonight he could be at peace one way or the other, hopefully with the more favorable of the two outcomes.</p><p> </p><p>Then the two of them could share their darkest thoughts with each other and be there to support each other through it. Forte had always liked being alone and relying on himself, but being alone, he had realized, could also include another person.</p><p> </p><p>That person being Adam, specifically. Just the two of them alone with each other, no other company, and certainly not those pesky servants that clearly did not respect or understand or care for the master like Forte did.</p><p> </p><p>Forte knew for a fact through his usual snooping that they had gotten Adam only <em>one</em> mere gift between them, and a silly old storybook of all things. It was like they didn't know him at all!</p><p> </p><p>Did they think him a child to patronize with such foolishness? He was young, yes, but still a man! Really, they couldn’t have put any thought whatsoever into it, just finding any old item, wrapping it and calling it a day. Where was the meaning? The effort? The <em>value</em>?</p><p> </p><p>Sure they were much poorer than the highly wealthy Forte and probably couldn’t have afforded all of the secondary material gifts he had gotten for Adam...but still, Forte couldn’t imagine having such a blatant disregard for what Adam deserved. The thought disgusted him.</p><p> </p><p>No, he had spent over half a<em> year</em> making his main gift especially for the Prince. A symbol of their potential bond, of the connection they could share, of all of the warm, fuzzy <em>gross</em> feelings Forte had when he saw and thought about Adam that made him want to gag with how sweet they were.</p><p> </p><p>It was <em>too </em>personal, perhaps, but the tempting intimacy of it had been too much to resist...the way it made him feel when he would practice the piece until his hands were cramped and sore, alone with himself in the middle of all those sleepless nights, face flushed in longing. It was so addictive, but so repulsive.</p><p> </p><p>As a matter of fact, it went against everything Forte stood for. To fall in love? Certainly <em>not!</em> For that reason among others, he couldn’t be honest with himself about it. Perhaps it was too painful to consider, too frightening lest he face rejection and a loss of that magnitude.</p><p> </p><p>Still, he couldn't explain why he felt his heart flutter in his chest when the Prince was nearby, how his face flushed and heated when the young master looked his way, how his body tensed with desire when he was spoken to directly….</p><p> </p><p>The uncomfortable truth was that he hadn’t known a moment’s peace since the day they had first met, having been immediately besotted with the Dauphin and unexpectedly knocked off his feet by infatuation.</p><p> </p><p>Not only did he <em>need</em> Adam, he needed Adam to need him<em> too. </em>He could no longer live with these raw, powerful feelings tearing him up inside with nowhere to go. The inferno was burning him alive, and had even more so on the few times that he and Adam accidentally brushed up against each other. Then the flames of yearning <em>really</em> lit him up!</p><p> </p><p>On the rare occasions when brief bodily contact between them had occurred as the result of a convenient ‘misstep’ on Forte’s part, it always meant that Forte would be too busy with certain sinful vices to get any work done that night.</p><p> </p><p>Late in the evenings, alone in the dark of his dimly lit chambers, he would often indulge himself and imagine in vivid detail what the Prince's soft lips would feel like if he could penetrate them with his tongue...how that perfect body would feel trembling below him, that voice calling out praises for Forte and Forte <em>alone</em>.</p><p> </p><p>The fantasies were always enough to make him go at himself over and over until he was raw, sore and exhausted. He just couldn’t get enough. His forbidden desires were so deviant, his lust so powerful and his appetite <em>so</em> insatiable that it would surely seem scandalous if anyone knew. The fact that it made him feel so dirty only served to turn him on even <em>more </em>in a never-ending cycle of shame and pleasure.</p><p> </p><p>Some nights, it almost seemed real. Every imagined touch, every unsaid word, and every tortuously delicious image. As an artist in many senses of the word, Forte had quite a vivid imagination and whether he was in bed or at the keyboard practicing he couldn’t help but fantasize and envision he and Adam together.</p><p> </p><p>A lot of these shameful fantasies had even ended up inspiring his Christmas piece as well, hence why he got so worked up practicing it. It not only filled him with hope, but feelings that were even <em>more</em> shameful as well. Not the sort of things you’d want anyone to see you overcome with in public, for certain.</p><p> </p><p>Thankfully he had this time to practice in private today, to get it out of his system before the big moment. Now that he was alone with himself, he could spend all morning and afternoon practicing and thinking. Thinking about his plan, and the night before.</p><p> </p><p>About how last night on Christmas Eve, under the influence of copious amounts of liquor, Forte had decided he had had enough of it all and walked out alone into the Black Forest when everyone in the castle was already asleep.</p><p> </p><p>He hadn’t known exactly what he would find out there. There were rumors, of course, of a dark witch who dwelt in the depths of the gnarled trees, only coming forth at night with her familiars to ensnare victims who strayed too far from the human world.</p><p> </p><p>Forte, though, had not been afraid of any evil spirits. Even though he liked to read about them in books, as a skeptical man Forte had doubted the existence of anything supernatural out in the forest... though the more fanciful part of him had hoped he might run into the witch after all.</p><p> </p><p>He had reached the end of his rope and was willing to do whatever it took to get what he wanted, to lift him out of his dark existential abyss. His fascination with the dark arts had filled his head with certain notions, and if selling his soul was even <em>remotely</em> possible then he had nothing left to lose by trying.</p><p> </p><p>In his inebriated state he also paid no heed to the sort of <em>real</em> creatures that might have been lurking out there either, such as wolves and bears. If they had wanted to tear him apart, then so be it. It couldn’t have been any more painful than what he already lived through every day.</p><p> </p><p>At first he had wandered around in the dark for who knew how long, getting more and more lost as time went by. He was normally quite good with directions, but that only applied when he was paying attention to where he was headed in the first place.</p><p> </p><p>It was only when he began to sober up and realize the foolishness of what he was doing that he decided to stop to try to catch his bearings in a quiet clearing.</p><p> </p><p>The rest of the woods had been nearly pitch black and he was only able to see enough to walk because he was used to the low light of his dungeon chambers... but because the trees opened up into a wide maw above of the clearing, moonlight had shone down and illuminated his path a bit more.</p><p> </p><p>He had stood in the center of the area, gazing out at the silent blackness around him. Everything had been eerily still, as though he had stepped into some sort of pocket dimension where sound couldn’t penetrate or escape from. More time, once again incalculable to him, had passed by.</p><p> </p><p>Then, in a small pool of pink light surrounded by darkness on all sides, the illusion of silence shattered and he had heard a voice speak to him, almost as though it were originating from the crisp winter wind itself, all around him and yet nowhere at once.</p><p> </p><p>He hadn’t been able to make out what it said at first despite his acute hearing, but as the glowing pink orb of light that glistened against the reflection of the untainted snow approached him from the treeline, the voice had become clearer.</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, despite the lingering remnants of his intoxication, he had understood it with a clear mind and had assumed, <em>hoped </em>rather, that this may have been the witch... that she had showed up to either offer him a bargain, or to kill him. Those were the only two outcomes he would have accepted at that point.</p><p> </p><p>‘Why do you enter my domain, evil one?’ the disembodied sound had questioned firmly as her…..<em>her?</em>….voice echoed, beautiful and yet uncanny all at once while the sparkling light had gotten closer to him, almost threateningly so.</p><p> </p><p>Instead of being afraid, however, Forte had merely wondered to himself why a <em>witch</em> of all people had referred to him in such an unusual way. <em>Evil</em> one? Was it his appearance? His mannerisms? Both traits he was used to being mocked for, really, but it had been a little hypocritical in that context.</p><p> </p><p>Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Forte hadn’t backed down any. He hadn’t felt frightened, instead merely resigned to whatever fate he would have faced. After all, it was hard to be frightened when one no longer had a will to live in the first place.</p><p> </p><p>‘I come before you now seeking an agreement, Enchantress,’ he had explained calmly, not entirely sure of how to refer to her that wasn't….offensive. <em>Enchantress </em>had seemed a more flattering term than <em>witch</em>, at any rate.</p><p> </p><p>‘I do not deal with human-born, least of all those who reside in the <em>palace</em>,’ she had said crossly. But as her light flickered above him, studying him, she had seemed to consider this further. ‘Though you’re not, are you? At least, not <em>entirely</em>.’</p><p> </p><p>Trying not to take offense at this or become frustrated, Forte hadn’t really known what to say. Of <em>course</em> he was a human. His parents had both died human deaths, after all…. Yes, he <em>was</em> a human, and he hated that fact every day of his life.</p><p> </p><p>Sure, there <em>were </em>rumors involving his ancestors and the fae long ago…But Forte himself slept like a human, ate like a human, experienced pain like a human…and clearly had the moral weaknesses of one considering he had been out there in the first place for the sake of his human desires.</p><p> </p><p>‘Yes, Enchantress, it is true... I have indeed come from the palace within the mountains. But as for the rest, I’m afraid I’ve no idea of what you speak,” he had insisted as humbly as he could feign.</p><p> </p><p>Annoyingly, she had not seemed to elaborate any further on this insinuation, nor did she explain how she had known he was from the palace...Though, on second thought in the present time, it had rather obvious based on his clothing and refined accent, hadn’t it? He certainly wasn’t from the <em>village</em>, at any rate.</p><p> </p><p>But instead of clarifying what she had meant, the spirit had just glossed over his confusion as she had then seemed to entertain the idea of considering his offering. ‘What sort of <em>deal</em> did you have in mind, evil one?’ her ethereal voice had prompted.</p><p> </p><p>Forte’s blood had run cold in his veins. There it had been, the opportunity he had been hoping for….But was it even real? He wasn’t sure at the time whether it wasn’t all some sort of bizarre fever dream, that he hadn’t simply passed out drunk in bed and imagined all of it.</p><p> </p><p>And even if it <em>had </em>been real, how could he have been certain she wasn’t attempting to trick him? The fae folk were long known to be mischievous at best and malicious at worst, and she had already made her disdain for him and his kind apparent from the get-go.</p><p> </p><p>Under normal circumstances, trusting her would have been unwise. He had known he would have to be cautious and keep his wits about him…. Maybe drinking first <em>hadn’t</em> been such a great idea, though without it he may have never acted so impulsively to begin with.</p><p> </p><p>But the fact of the matter was that he had been given a chance to be heard, and he had not been willing to squander it. ‘I sought you out tonight, Enchantress, in the very throws of desperation. You see, I serve a master who treats me….unkindly,’ he had admitted with slight shame, his face bowed to avoid letting it show.</p><p> </p><p>But it hadn’t lasted long before something moving beside him had caught his attention. Almost right after he had made mention of a master, a pack of dark-furred wolves had slowly prowled out from the shadowy woods in a circle, surrounding him as they bared their fangs.</p><p> </p><p>As they slowly closed ranks, he had noticed that they left two spaces of the circle open...as though there had something missing that should have been there all along. Something important.</p><p> </p><p>He had made no move to avoid the creatures, though, and they had stopped a few meters away when the voice from the light addressed her ‘children’. Forte had merely stood straight as a statue with hands folded in front of himself respectfully as he watched saliva drip from their ravenous fangs, mirroring the ferocity of his own devious hunger.</p><p> </p><p>‘The House of Bourbon,’ the light had begun with an interest that seemed unwavering, ‘has long been in my sights. Tell me, evil one, what wish have you of your master? The wealth of a King? The power of a King? The <em>demise</em> of a King?’</p><p> </p><p>‘The King,’ Forte had informed matter-of-factually, ‘is no longer living. It is regarding his heir to the throne, the Dauphin, with whom I require your assistance, Enchantress.’</p><p> </p><p>Truthfully, he had found it a bit strange that such an apparently powerful being hadn’t already known this information if she really had the royal family in her sights for so long as she claimed. Perhaps she had not been privy to any of the happenings in Versailles?</p><p> </p><p>‘You wish for retribution against the <em>Prince</em>?’ she had prodded impatiently, seeming agitated to learn of the King’s passing in so casual a way. Perhaps, the composer now speculated in hindsight, she had wanted the honor of destroying him herself?</p><p> </p><p>But that was really none of Forte’s business even if it was true, and he could have cared less what petty squabbles she had with the late King. The only thing that concerned him at the time was whether she would help him ensnare the <em>Prince</em>.</p><p> </p><p>‘Heavens, no,’ he had corrected, affronted by the very suggestion. ‘What I <em>desire</em> is for my master to come to realize that he <em>needs</em> me. For him to be mine and mine <em>alone</em>,’ the composer had explained, hoping she would understand.</p><p> </p><p>‘He treats me with carelessness now, yes, but he is still young in years and quite troubled in mind. I believe he could appreciate me, were he to realize what I can do for him...what I <em>have</em> been doing for him. With your help, of course.’</p><p> </p><p>The voice had paused at this, taking the unusual request in and digesting it fully. Her subsequent tone, however, had displayed a lack of approval. As though she had heard this sort of thing before and knew better. ‘You wish to enter into such a costly deal over something so fickle and temporary as mortal<em> love</em>?’</p><p> </p><p>Having to justify himself had irked the Maestro, as did her throwing out that loaded ‘L’ word that he so feared, but he had tried not to let his irritation show. He had needed to stay on her good side in order to persuade her. ‘With all due respect, it seems you do not <em>understand</em>.</p><p> </p><p>This, Enchantress, is unlike any love you have known, mortal or not, and unlike any you shall witness in an eternity after. No, this is not <em>love</em>, it is madness, suffering, <em>desperation</em>. Can’t you see? It will <em>destroy</em> me if you do not intervene!</p><p> </p><p>Every day the Prince grows closer to ascending to the throne and becoming wed, and time is running out before I am left with but <em>one</em> option. I cannot continue living in this state, waiting idly by for the inevitable! I would sooner <em>die </em>than lose him to another. I would sooner take our lives with my own hand than see him in the palm of someone else’s!</p><p> </p><p>So I assure you, Enchantress, that whatever you ask of me, no matter <em>what</em> the cost may be, is a small price to pay when the alternative is as permanent as death.’</p><p> </p><p>This time she had not hesitated to respond, her voice growing deeper, more foreboding. It had been a warning in response to his increased confidence and bravery, no doubt. ‘There are some fates worse than death, evil one. Even for <em>you</em>.’</p><p> </p><p>She had said it as though he wasn’t already well aware of that. ‘Yes, I <em>know</em>,’ he had replied, unable to mask a dash of sarcasm<em>.</em> ‘I have been <em>living</em> one. That is precisely why I am here…. to seek an alternate end to my torture, a less drastic measure than my last resort. So I ask you one last time, will you bargain with me?’</p><p> </p><p>This had once again caused the witch pause, but it had been a lengthy one that time and were it not for the fact that her light had remained glowing near to him, he might have taken her silence to mean she had departed altogether.</p><p> </p><p>His stomach had begun to tighten in knots of anxiousness as he awaited her response, until eventually he just hadn’t been able to wait a moment longer. He had <em>needed</em> to convince her further, give her more details to sway her to his plan.</p><p> </p><p>‘I, the Prince’s humble court composer, am preparing a piece in his honor for the yuletide celebration tomorrow, Enchantress. All I ask of you is that Prince Adam will become mine for all time after hearing it. That I shall finally have him to myself.</p><p> </p><p>In return I will give you anything you ask of me: wealth, sacrifices, religious service...even my <em>soul</em>,’ he had insisted, assuming he had one to begin with.</p><p> </p><p>His voice had become more deranged as he folded down to his knees to show how earnest he was, not even caring if his light-colored pants had gotten dirty from the snowy twigs and gravel below.</p><p> </p><p>As she seemed to consider this, the witch’s light flickered and swooped over to the other side of him, sizing him up from above. He tried not to stare up at it as he dared not challenge her further, instead having kept his eyes lowered to the forest floor in anticipation.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, he received his response. His prophecy. ‘Tomorrow evening, you will perform for him your gift,’ she had whispered in instruction as her voice seemed to get more distant. He had been able to sense the light fading away in his peripheral vision as she finished: ‘The Prince shall be yours.’</p><p> </p><p>When he had looked up at her words in disbelief, Forte had seen that the surrounding wolves had ceased growling and had begun to stand down, a few of them widening the breach in the circle as though they were waiting for him to pass by. He had not hesitated to rise to his feet, which were at that point unsteady.</p><p> </p><p>Before he could think to thank the voice or ask any more questions, he had realized that the light was already completely gone. Clearly <em>one</em> of his offerings had been enough, but in his frazzled state he hadn’t even had a chance to ask her exactly what she wanted in return.</p><p> </p><p>The warmth that the light provided had simply disappeared, leaving him surrounded by the dark winter chill once again. Something inside him then told him it had been time to go home, and that if he waited around there too long he might never find his way back.</p><p> </p><p>The last thing he remembered from that encounter was walking past the wolves. From the time he walked into the treeline on was a blur, an empty gap in memory. The next morning, <em>this</em> morning, he wasn't even certain how he had made it home that night.</p><p> </p><p>He could not recall any of his return journey thereafter, nor crawling into bed upon arriving home. All he knew was that when he awoke earlier today, he was back in the comfort of his bed. His feet a bit sore and his body more chilled than usual, but still safe.</p><p> </p><p>If it weren’t for the stains of forest dirt on his knees he would have thought the previous night had all been a delirium-induced fantasy, a drunken madness.</p><p> </p><p>Though perhaps it had been, either way. Perhaps he had wandered outside and hallucinated in his distress and longing, getting dirt on his clothes and wind in his hair in the process.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                  All passion is a waste of time</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                    A deadly game pour vous</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                               I am your friend, your cher ami</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                       I wouldn't lie to you</b> </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The howl of that same cold wind whipping at the windows above his head snaps Forte back into reality and he realized he had gotten lost in thought and that it was now dark outside.</p><p> </p><p>It could be very hard to tell the time of day when you were holed up practicing in a dingy room, and Forte had been too focused on his own musings to keep a very close eye on how much longer he had left.</p><p> </p><p>Thankfully it did not appear <em>too</em> late, and he was glad to have been able to spend so long practicing his music up until the very last minute. The extra hours of music would surely pay off in <em>some</em> measure.</p><p> </p><p>Aside from merely providing comfort, music was also an important aspect of his plan. Even if the witch <em>had</em> in actuality only been a product of insanity or didn’t hold up her end of the bargain, it was still vital to perfect his piece for Adam.</p><p> </p><p>There was still the chance of winning him over on his own. So long as he could focus on his music, he could get everything right and fix it all, he thought to himself as he exited the music chamber to make his way to the great hall.</p><p> </p><p>When he arrived at the main event he stopped outside of the great hall with hands clasped behind his back elegantly, surveying the scene inside before he would dare to make his way in. He needed to spot where Adam was first so he could know which direction to approach from.</p><p> </p><p>There were a lot of people present, mainly the unspeakably numerous amount of people who worked in the castle, and although there was a bit of merriment going around, the overall atmosphere was still one of tension. It seemed they all fussed to keep Adam appeased in their own way.</p><p> </p><p>Angelique the castle decorator was making sure that every last bit of decor was perfectly in place, Lumiere the concierge was zipping around to greet everyone and keep the mood light and jovial, and Cogsworth, the uptight majordomo, was scrambling around in a mad dash every which way, looking like he was about to pull his fake hair out in stress.</p><p> </p><p>It was amusing. Forte couldn’t stand any of them, not a single one. They were all undesirables as far as he was concerned, and as soon as he had the appropriate amount of influence over Adam he would start weeding out as many as he reasonably could, one by one.</p><p> </p><p><em>Especially</em> that obnoxious Scottish landscaper, Sheerer, who always seemed to give Forte a hard time for no good reason. That obnoxious bastard was one of the only servants who was stupid enough to antagonize Forte directly.</p><p> </p><p>Speaking of said bastard, Forte can’t help but let out an exaggerated sigh when he sees the landscaper, Groundsman Sheerer, approach along with a group of other servants who were milling about, making their way into the great hall.</p><p> </p><p>Thankfully he seems occupied in conversation with Monsieur Feuerwerker, the lumberjack, though one member of the group does run up to Forte and bump into him absentmindedly, much to his chagrin. That little seven-year-old brat, Chip.</p><p> </p><p>Forte <em>despised</em> children, but Chip in particular had been a longstanding one-sided enemy ever since he had unknowingly tried to snitch on Forte for murdering that stonemason. The composer was still trying to figure out a foolproof plan to get rid of the little pest for good in his spare time.</p><p> </p><p>“What do <em>you</em> want?” Forte glowered, giving the boy a stern look of disdain from above his inhumanly sharp cheekbones and his towering height. “You had better watch where you’re walking, or you might get <em>hurt</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Even though Chip was normally quite pleasant with adults, Forte’s purposefully intimidating expression and tone causes Chip to yelp and retreat in fear, running to hide behind his mother’s big poofy purple dress and peaking around the corner of it shyly.</p><p> </p><p>This commotion catches Sheerer’s attention and he gives the small boy a toothy grin with his freckled, red-bearded face. “What’ya hiding from, bay?” he asks jokingly, ruffling Chip’s blonde hair up to try to calm him down.</p><p> </p><p>Chip just points a stubby finger at Forte with big eyes, looking back and forth between the object of his terror and the loud landscaper. “Is he a <em>zombie</em>?!” Chips exclaims nervously, though looking a bit less afraid now that he had backup to protect him.</p><p> </p><p>This causes Sheerer to laugh heartily and he grins even wider when he sees the barely contained look of cold, furious insult on the composer’s face. “Nah, bay, that ain’t no zombie! Don’tya know a <em>vampire</em> when ya see one?”</p><p> </p><p>Oh, here Sheerer went <em>again</em> with his ridiculous jokes at Forte’s expense. For some reason he really seemed to like acting as though Forte was a ghoul by making fun of his fang-like incisors, the gaunt paleness of his skin, the unusual shape of his pupils, his highly severe bone structure...</p><p> </p><p>And also his gothic aesthetic, the way he played such morbid music, his dreary countenance, and of <em>course</em> the fact that his chambers were located in the very lowest levels of the castle, underground, where the pesky sunlight didn’t bother him...But the jokes were utter foolishness, really. Completely unfounded.</p><p> </p><p>Seeming to sense that Sheerer wasn’t serious, Chip starts to laugh a bit too and tugs on his mother’s skirt. “Vampires aren’t <em>real</em>, silly, they’re just from stories! My mom told me,” he insisted, rather ironically considering he apparently still thought zombies were real.</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps your <em>mother</em> should teach you some manners, young man, or you’d know it’s wise to treat your elders with <em>respect</em>,” Forte interrupts icily, turning his glare toward Sheerer and his large, laughing gut and sticking a long finger in Sheerer’s face in accusation. “It wouldn’t hurt your pudgy <em>friend</em> here to learn his place either.”</p><p> </p><p>As soon as Forte got up in Sheerer’s face, a deep guttural noise came from the floor below them and Forte looked down to see Chip’s mop of a dog, Sultan, in defensive position and growling up at him with fur raised.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s because he’s a vampire, right? Animals can sense them!” Chip interjects, looking up innocently between his mother and Sheerer. He looks excited at the prospect now rather than afraid, though he winces when Mrs. Potts gives him a withering look of disapproval.</p><p> </p><p>Mrs. Potts, not having overheard what was going on before, steps over to soothe Sultan by petting him gently. “I’m awfully sorry, dearie,” she offered to Forte while kneeling next to the dog. “He’s usually so well-behaved. The silly old thing just <em>loves</em> having company around.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, is he <em>really</em>?” Backing down reluctantly from an amused Sheerer, Forte sneers at them all. “Because it seems to me that this dumb mutt is as poorly behaved as<em> all </em>of your brats. Perhaps you’d better stop popping them out, woman, before they get you into more trouble than you can <em>afford</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>With that, Forte storms off from them before anyone including the confused housekeeper could respond, ignoring the snickers of Sheerer and the raucous barking of Chip’s dog behind him as he makes his escape into the great hall.</p><p> </p><p>He hated socializing, truly, but getting lost in this crowd was best to get away from someone like Sheerer, who didn’t have the patience to look for him and would get easily distracted if he tried. Forte wouldn’t allow that ugly devil’s coterie of disrespectful halfwits to ruin his night, not when so much was at stake.</p><p> </p><p>Besides, it didn’t take long for Forte to catch sight of Adam nearby, who was making a scene. The Prince stood by one of the many long tables framing the sides of the massive room, picking through some of the food and yelling at one of the servers who tried to dispense him a glass from the punch bowl.</p><p> </p><p>“What the hell is all of <em>this,</em> Ladler?! Is it supposed to be <em>food</em>??” Adam demanded loudly, knocking the glass of punch out of the poor elderly man’s hand. It appeared Chef Bouche would also be getting an earful later, based on what Adam was saying about the food. The thought made Forte smirk.</p><p> </p><p>Ladler stuttered nervously, practically shaking at the knees as he struggled to respond. It was truly an impressive sight to Forte because Ladler, before working at the palace, was a British veteran and had previously served in the imperial army. Needless to say, he was not easily intimidated.</p><p> </p><p>Adam huffs impatiently when Ladler can’t respond and pushes past him rudely. “Just get out of my way,” he demands, which Ladler eagerly agrees to as he runs off to escape from his master’s temper, leaving Adam alone and unhappy.</p><p> </p><p>Did Forte dare go over and speak to Adam, to take a moment alone with him unprepared? Before he could even really think about the consequences, his feet decide to make their own way over to the Prince, regardless of the will of the man they were carrying.</p><p> </p><p>Trying to seem calm and professional, Forte sidles over beside Adam who doesn’t look up at him as he keeps poking at the food in discontent. Surely he must have seen him from the corner of his eye? And yet he ignores Forte once again, as though his existence was of no consequence.</p><p> </p><p>Clearing his throat with a little bow, Forte tries to make what only <em>sounds</em> like innocent, polite conversation. “Good evening, your highness. I take it this food is not to your liking?” he asks coyly, knowing exactly what road he was leading Adam down.</p><p> </p><p>Adam sighs in disgust and pushes the large serving plates away from himself, almost knocking them off the back of the table. Almost, but not quite. Thankfully the tables were big enough to compensate for his tantrums after a rather messy incident at the <em>last</em> holiday gala...</p><p> </p><p>Forte has to stop himself from chuckling at the memory of Cogsworth slipping on the mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce that got scattered all over the ballroom floor, taking Lumiere and about fifty feet of ribbon down with him.</p><p> </p><p>“I told those idiots in the kitchen to make sure the food was kept fresh, and what do they bring me? Nothing but cold <em>mush</em>! The chef <em>knew</em> what I wanted, they <em>all</em> did, and they didn’t <em>care</em>,” he rants, crossing his arms moodily as he leans back against the table, no longer interested in foraging for anything good there.</p><p> </p><p>Forte’s eyes narrow wickedly. He knew for a fact the consistency of the food hadn’t been the fault of Chef Bouche or the food servers since Adam had demanded certain ingredients which made it much more runny, and touching the food himself he noticed it didn’t even seem cold at all...</p><p> </p><p>But he wasn’t about to say any of that, not when it gave him a chance to sabotage his competition. “How <em>awful</em>, Master,” he drawls, carefully studying the Prince’s every reaction. “Simply unacceptable. And to be so incompetent on <em>Christmas</em> of all days. Really, they should know better.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s like everyone is trying to <em>ruin</em> my Christmas,” Adam accuses in agreement of Forte’s assessment, looking resentfully around the room at all the seemingly cheerful people chatting. “Like they don’t want me to be happy.”</p><p> </p><p>The Prince gestures aggressively toward the crowd of people all over the massive room. “I mean, <em>look</em> at those jerks! <em>They’re</em> all happy, but the food is wrong, the tree was late, they hung up all this ugly mistletoe, and to top it all off I barely see any presents with my name!”</p><p> </p><p>One quick glance around the room was all it took to tell that Adam was wrong once again. Not everyone <em>was</em> happy. Ladler was cowering in a corner a few meters away, Cogsworth was still scrambling around in stress trying to oversee everything, Angelique looked absolutely indignant that her decor was being insulted, and there was, as usual, plenty of gifts for Adam under the tree.</p><p> </p><p>It was curious to view the world through Adam’s eyes like this. How, in his mind, everyone was either apathetic to his needs or out to get him entirely. Forte couldn’t blame Adam for nursing a persecution complex, considering how he had grown up. It also made it easier for Forte to turn Adam against them all and toward him.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Master...they have failed you, yes, but surely not <em>everyone</em> is trying to ruin your Christmas,” Forte hints with a smooth, persuasive voice, taking a chance and placing his graceful hand to rest on the Prince’s shoulder in comfort.</p><p> </p><p>The resulting chills at this small contact almost render him unsteady on his feet, but he pushes through and ignores the knots twisting in his stomach and chest. “For instance, <em>I </em>have a very special gift just for you. I think you’ll really like it.” Or so he hopes, with every fiber of his love-struck being.</p><p> </p><p>Adam glances down at that hand and even though he doesn’t smile at the prospect his anger does seem to calm down a bit for the moment at the mention of a special gift. Forte had played his cards well indeed.</p><p> </p><p>It was hard to imagine a time when the thought of receiving a gift <em>wouldn’t</em> momentarily improve the Prince’s mood, so this didn’t surprise Forte. He knew how to work Adam’s temper, how to both soothe and rile it to his advantage depending on the situation.</p><p> </p><p>But it never lasted long. “Well it’s gonna have to be <em>reall</em><em>y</em> special to make up for what everyone else did today,” Adam says bluntly as he shrugs his shoulder out from Forte’s grasp and storms off toward the center of the room before Forte can respond or make any move to keep him engaged any longer.</p><p> </p><p>It seemed as though Adam was not in the ideal state that Forte had hoped. This level of impatience and distraction would mean Forte would have to work extra hard to win him over tonight. The odds were quickly stacking against him.</p><p> </p><p>The composer just sighs, staring after Adam as he walked away, knowing that even though they had just spoken he is probably still the last thing on Adam’s mind. It was so <em>hard</em> to get his attention and even harder to keep it, especially while walking on eggshells and navigating his moods.</p><p> </p><p>But no matter. Forte still had the ace up his sleeve, and the patience to wait until the opportune time to reveal it. His piece, his gift, his beautiful <em>confession</em>. With it, he would finally have Adam’s attention, like the Enchantress had prophesied. Or <em>else</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Given the time, Forte had to make his way over to the rest of the orchestra after this interaction with the Prince in order to get the musicians ready to perform. Once they started playing, the evening’s dancing began.</p><p> </p><p>Though he was turned away from the ballroom itself, focused mainly on conducting and playing the grand piano, Forte found himself struggling to focus and resisting the urge to constantly look back to see if he could catch a glimpse of the Prince.</p><p> </p><p>One of the times he did, he noticed that Adam had been seated in his large throne, rather grouchy, for most of the performance. The seventh or so time Forte checked back, he realized that Mrs. Potts had coaxed the Prince out of his seat and had begun dancing with him, much like a mother trying in futility to get her son involved in the fun.</p><p> </p><p>Though she wore a bright smile on her face and giggled proudly at her success, Adam did not appear to be enjoying himself and wore a scowl. He must have still been brooding over the food.</p><p> </p><p>Despite his facial expression Adam was still clearly taking the dance seriously and he did not allow himself to be dragged around by Mrs. Potts because, as Forte had come to realize a couple years ago, Adam was an immensely talented dancer.</p><p> </p><p>He was good at anything physical, really, including athletics, fencing, horseback riding, climbing... and that list also naturally included dancing. It made Forte wonder in which <em>other</em> ways he could use his body so skillfully, for surely his movements were nothing if not that.</p><p> </p><p>It was hard not to get too distracted watching Adam dance to his orchestra’s music, but he wouldn’t allow himself to lose all focus now and mess up so unfortunately he wasn’t able to study Adam’s form as much as he would have liked to otherwise.</p><p> </p><p>Adam was such an impulsive and active person, and yet when he danced his movements were graceful, oh yes so <em>very</em> graceful, and yet commanding as well. Like a proper leader ought to be. As though he had the utmost confidence to lead the routine, the utmost assurance in his elegance.</p><p> </p><p>Forte would have loved more than anything to be dancing with Adam now. To turn the tables and lead <em>him</em>. He couldn’t help but pulse with jealousy, though he knew very well that Mrs. Potts’ love for Adam was maternal and not sensual in nature.</p><p> </p><p>But the fact still remained that <em>she</em> was the one dancing with him and not Forte. She didn’t deserve that honor, nor could she appreciate it the way Forte would have. Forte would have enjoyed it more.</p><p> </p><p>Swallowing a lump in his throat, with some difficulty he refocuses his mind back on his duties and on performing perfectly, though he was getting more nervous as time went by.</p><p> </p><p>He knew that after the dancing was done surely Adam would want to receive his presents before the feast officially began, and so that meant that Forte’s solo piece was fast approaching. The moment that would decide his fate forever.</p><p> </p><p>Should he fail, death was the only solution, the only mercy. Nothing else would work. He could not physically <em>force </em>Adam to love him, nor hold him prisoner until he did. The Prince was too well-protected for that, both by guards and by his own stubbornness.</p><p> </p><p>You couldn’t <em>make</em> Adam do anything by force, he would only rebel. The only way to control him was to manipulate him into wanting something himself, to make him think it was his own idea. To subtly show him <em>why</em> he should want it, why it was of benefit to him.</p><p> </p><p>That was all Adam really cared about, what was in it for him. The bottom line. And that’s all he really <em>should</em> care about. He needed to protect himself, just as Forte did, and Forte respected that. He was of a similar perspective: anything without a use was disposable.</p><p> </p><p>That is why, at the end of the day, Forte would rather die by his own hand than be useless to his master, than to let unrequited love conquer him for one moment longer and render him ineffectual at his duties. If he couldn’t have Adam, he would have to do something drastic.</p><p> </p><p>Forte did not trust the pact with the forest witch entirely and he was still foggy on the whole scenario, though he couldn’t help that slimmer of treacherous hope from taking hold in the darkest recesses of his heart regardless. That made the gamble worse.</p><p> </p><p>Oh, this would be so very painful if it went wrong. Too painful to bear. Knowing this, and realizing that this could be the last performance he ever plays with his orchestra, he makes sure to end on a high note, showing off more than usual with a bit more flourish.</p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, Fife had been true to his word and had kept up with his peers, actually being able to withstand the pressure. He still wasn’t particularly talented, but he hadn’t made any errors this time, likely because he so badly wanted that solo….a solo that would never come.</p><p> </p><p>After all, there was no way Forte was going to allow an annoying, freakishly shrill <em>piccolo</em> of all things to feature prominently in his masterpieces. But making Fife <em>think</em> that he would was the only way to get him to behave, as the childish man had no discipline otherwise.</p><p> </p><p>When the music ended and Forte gave the clear for everyone to get packed up, from the corner of his eye he notices Fife staring at him excitedly, nodding his head as though looking for approval that he had played well enough to earn that solo.</p><p> </p><p>“Maestro! Maestro!” he calls out in his squeaky voice as he starts trying to push through the musicians that were milling about... but because he is so small and passive he doesn’t get very far before getting unintentionally blocked by a cellist.</p><p> </p><p>Which was fortunate, because Fife’s solo was the last thing on Forte’s mind. He ignored his protege’s attempts to reach him, walking a bit closer to the throne as he carefully watched Adam be seated once again.</p><p> </p><p>It was getting rather late now as it was dark out, and through the ballroom windows he could see it had began to start snowing rather heavily outside. A winter night’s storm. It was eerily beautiful, and sort of claustrophobic. The perfect atmosphere for his melodies.</p><p> </p><p>“Shall we begin ze feast, your highness?” Lumiere suggests with a playful grin as he slicks his brown hair back and walks away from his latest flirtation, Fifi the chambermaid, to approach the Prince cheerfully.</p><p> </p><p>Forte had never liked Lumiere. He was a shameless womanizer, and he didn’t even bother trying to hide it. It seemed like the man had a new lover every week or so, switching between the decorators, the chambermaids, the servers, the seamstresses…He would flirt with anything on two legs, really. Even Cogsworth. It was all a rather uncomfortable display.</p><p> </p><p>“No!” Adam retorts, crossing his arms stubbornly. “No one eats until I get my gifts,” he insists hotly. Just as Forte had predicted. The composer smiles grimly to himself as his suspicions were confirmed. He really did know Adam so very well, like the back of his hand.</p><p> </p><p>Observing him so closely for years had made sure of that. He wasn’t repulsed by the Prince’s selfishness or demanding nature. Rather, he admired that the young man was so willing to take charge, to be open about his desires, to assert himself and get what he wanted.</p><p> </p><p>...Not so much the others. In fact, rather foolishly, Lumiere seems to think it wise to offer debate to this order. “But your <em>h</em><em>ighness</em>, surely ze food will not be as fresh if we wait too long! Ze presents will be here all night, but ze food, she will get cold,” he says with a bow, ignoring Cogsworth frantically glaring daggers at him.</p><p> </p><p>Cogsworth <em>always</em> obliged the Prince’s every wish without hesitation but, unlike Forte, he did so out of fear rather than devotion. He was a pedantic man, and easily frightened by harsh feedback and temper. A true coward.</p><p> </p><p>“Bring me my presents!” Adam repeats more aggressively this time, practically roaring as he leans forward in his throne and clutches the armrests angrily which makes Cogsworth nearly jump out of his skin.</p><p> </p><p>Everyone is gawking at the Prince in worry, hoping under their breath that Lumiere will shut his mouth and obey this time. Thankfully, he does. It seemed that even an idiot of <em>his</em> caliber could have an iota of common sense on at least one occasion in his life.</p><p> </p><p>Forte watches eagerly as Mrs. Potts hurriedly rushes to the Christmas tree to grab a present and hands it to Lumiere with a worried expression. The composer’s eyes darken and his hands clasp together in front of him as he stands several meters away in front of his grand organ.</p><p> </p><p>He knew that Adam was not going to be pleased when he opened this gift. It was only a storybook, after all, a rather boring present. Adam wasn’t stupid, but he <em>was</em> easily bored by his studies, and as such he had never taken any big interest in reading.</p><p> </p><p>These servants who claimed to care about him should have <em>known</em> that, Forte resolves bitterly. Granted, none of them had never had the distinct ‘honor’ of having a book thrown into their face by Adam like he had, but still. No matter, though. More credit for Forte.</p><p> </p><p>“Y-your highness,” Lumiere stutters nervously, trying to regain his smooth composure as a few of the other servants gathered round in front of the massive tree that was beside the throne with smiles when they see the gift being presented to Adam.</p><p> </p><p>It is a slender blue box wrapped in red ribbon and they appear hopeful that he will enjoy it, that perhaps it will calm his poor mood. He always did love getting gifts, after all.</p><p> </p><p>Lumiere kneels on the small steps in front of Adam’s throne and bows graciously. “Please accept zis humble gift, as a token of our appreciation. I know I speak for everyone when--”</p><p> </p><p>But Adam, rolling his eyes, doesn’t even let Lumiere finish. “Just give it to me!” he growls, snatching the box impatiently from a startled Lumiere’s hands.</p><p> </p><p>As he begins to rip it open, Forte notices the slightest flash of excitement on Adam’s face. It wasn’t often anyone would get to see the Dauphin happy rather than ill-tempered. It was almost sweet, in a way, though Forte knew it was not meant to last.</p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, Adam’s excited face scrunches up in confusion when he opens the package in a matter of seconds, and then morphs into incredulous anger. “A <em>storybook</em>? You call this a present?!” he questions angrily, as though he couldn’t believe his eyes, couldn’t fathom the audacity of so simple a gift, and one so poorly suited to him.</p><p> </p><p>While it was true that the servants were mere workers and could not afford the luxuries that Adam was used to, that wasn’t an excuse to put so little thought into it, in Forte’s opinion. Surely they made enough money to do more than chip in on one measly book. They deserved this scolding entirely...</p><p> </p><p>But Forte barely even had time to savor the look of shame and hurt on the other servants’ faces before the spotlight was abruptly shifted onto him.</p><p> </p><p>“I hope you have something <em>better</em> for me, Forte!” Adam demanded as he dropped the book to the floor carelessly, his caustic tone implying some sort of threat.</p><p> </p><p>Forte could feel himself blush under his makeup, looking like a deer caught in the headlights as he stared dumbly at Adam with wide eyes and mouth agape. He hadn’t been prepared.</p><p> </p><p>Stupid, stupid, stupid! How had he let himself be caught off guard?! Really, though, he had been expecting to be called upon last, as Adam never seemed to really notice him like this. He wasn’t expecting to be called upon second.</p><p> </p><p>Perhaps their previous conversation <em>had</em> made Adam keep Forte in his thoughts after all. Perhaps his promise of a special gift had stuck in Adam’s mind. If only it hadn’t been under such circumstances, the thought may have thrilled Forte.</p><p> </p><p>He had <em>hoped</em> that by the time it got to his turn, Adam would have received his other gifts and so he would have been a bit more pacified and ready to listen to the piece more calmly. But now he was in a foul mood, and in a way almost setting Forte up to fail by challenging him.</p><p> </p><p>This was already going so horribly. The composer needed to pull himself together, and fast. He could feel himself slipping away, his heart drooping down into his stomach with ill omen.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, sir,” Forte says as quickly as possible as he clenches his fists, trying not to allow his surprised tone to show through in his voice, nor to get defensive. He was only marginally successful. “Um, of course, Master,” he obliges with a bow-like nod of his head in respect before turning to take his seat in front of the organ and prepare to play.</p><p> </p><p>This was it, he reminded himself, taking a deep breath to try to keep himself grounded in the moment as he felt his consciousness almost begin to detach from his body... But no. Now was not the time to dissociate.</p><p> </p><p>He needed clarity of mind to really allow himself to get into the moment, to enter the head-space that made this piece so meaningful. He conjures up the memory in his mind of Adam dancing earlier and, sure enough, the feelings began to spread, calming him as he started to play his piece.</p><p> </p><p>Ah, this was where he was in his element. His ‘happy’ place, so to speak, though it was more of an indulgent melancholia than true happiness. Exhilarating, nonetheless.</p><p> </p><p>In that moment it was as though the music itself entered his bloodstream. He no longer worried about what the servants were doing behind him or if Adam was still staring at him angrily as he felt the room fade away and his feelings absorb him.</p><p> </p><p>All of the love, the lust, the longing, even the <em>ho</em><em>pe</em>...it crept to the surface and enveloped him as he played. He couldn’t help but smile to himself and nearly swoon as he took a took a deep inhale, the pleasure of finally sharing such forbidden sentiments overtaking him.</p><p> </p><p>He hoped Adam could understand, could translate. The lyrics were coming up soon, and after hearing them it would be damn near impossible for Adam to miss Forte’s intentions this time.</p><p> </p><p>He had only been playing for a several seconds, but time ceased to exist in this blissful state. Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to last as he was broken out of his trance by a disgusted “<em>What</em> is <em>that</em>?!” coming from behind him.</p><p> </p><p>It snapped him out of his daze fast enough to disorient him, like falling from cloud nine and landing splat face-first on the ground. He recognized it as Adam’s voice, but it felt visceral, tangible inside him like a sharp, burning dagger stabbing through his heart.</p><p> </p><p>“Um!” Forte jolted as he tried to catch his breath and not pass out, immediately whipping around on his bench to face Adam in horror and embarrassment. Was this really happening? It didn’t feel real, it was like a nightmare. What could he even say to explain himself? He didn’t even want to try.</p><p> </p><p>“A small piece... in <em>your </em>honor, Master,” he offers dejectedly with a weak voice of resignation, almost on the verge of tears. He bows his head low, partly to pacify his lord and partly to hide his face which was currently wrenched in agony. He couldn’t let anyone see him defeated like this, showing weakness.</p><p> </p><p>“Ew, I <em>hate</em> it,” Adam added in disgust with a revolted look on his face, twisting the knife in deeper. “Forte, that stuff is <em>gloomy</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>That was it. The killing blow. Adam hadn’t even let Forte play for more than a few seconds before shutting it down, before rejecting it! How could he call the piece gloomy when he didn’t even hear any of it? Didn’t he know that the feelings intertwined in the notes were<em> far </em>from gloomy?</p><p> </p><p>Forte felt<em> angry </em>this time, but his grief and hurt were too intense to allow him to voice his frustration, to even ask for another chance to play. Thankfully, right at that moment, a thundering knock booms on the front doors of the castle and spares him from having to reply.</p><p> </p><p>Everyone turns their heads away toward the source of the noise, and Forte uses their distraction as an opportunity to lurch himself up from the bench and run out of the great hall as fast as he can, clutching his face as tears threaten to burst forth violently.</p><p> </p><p>He had never cried before in his life, but now he feels completely broken, completely past the point of no return. Self-hatred and bitterness ripped through him, and he couldn’t <em>stand</em> himself for being so weak as he bolts toward the West Wing, toward the only thing that would end this agonizing pain.</p><p> </p><p>He ran like a wild beast were chasing him, as though he had nowhere else to go. His eyes were too blurry to see clearly, but when he wipes at his face he sees that his feet had carried him into Adam’s chambers.</p><p> </p><p>He lets out a wavering groan of absolute agony as his bloodshot eyes immediately fall upon that light fixture on the wall that Adam had broken that morning, and the footstool that lay discarded below it. He fumbles toward them and pulls one end of the broken chain loose, pushing the stool against the wall with his foot.</p><p> </p><p>Stepping up onto it, he wraps the chain around his neck and clamps it tightly until it hurts. Good, he thought. He deserved to suffer while he died, and it was all too fitting that a giant portrait of Adam was now staring at him to ensure he was reminded of his torment until his last breath.</p><p> </p><p>Seeing Adam’s beautiful and cruel face before him, Forte remembers the folded up pages in his jacket pocket and pulls them out to give them one last read as tears stream down his cheeks, streaking his makeup.</p><p> </p><p>The old poems and letters he had written for Adam, that he had never sent... they’re just too much for his heart to bear right now. Putting them back into his pocket, he moans pitifully.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe Adam would feel guilty when he found them. When he found <em>Forte,</em> dead in his chambers. Maybe <em>then</em> he’d realize what he’d done, realize what chance he had thrown away. A sick part of Forte <em>hoped</em> it caused Adam pain, that it caused him crippling regret.</p><p> </p><p>It almost comforted him to think of Adam being frightened by the discovery, to imagine him even <em>crying</em> in the aftermath, being traumatized by it. That way, at least in death he could mean something to Adam, leave a lasting impression.</p><p> </p><p>But despite this thought, he can’t find it in his heart to hate the Prince. No, he still <em>loved</em> him dearly, and that fact only made the torture of this all the more poignant.</p><p> </p><p>He had wasted half a year on this gift, and even longer entertaining silly fantasies of the two of them. He had allowed hope into his heart to ultimately poison him, had let <em>love</em> be his undoing just like he had scorned the King for doing previously.</p><p> </p><p>If only that wretched witch had kept her word but, alas, he should have known better than to trust anyone even a little bit, especially a female and of fae origin no less. This was a suitable punishment for such a folly.</p><p> </p><p>Well, no matter now. He was going somewhere that nothing could ever hurt him again, a place where no one could betray or insult or deceive him. A void where feeling didn’t exist, where emotion couldn’t plague him.</p><p> </p><p>It was time to be free.</p><p> </p><p>He jumps off the stool.</p><p> </p><p>But just as he does, a blinding light envelopes the room and forces him to shield his bleary eyes, groaning out in agony as he is suspended in mid-air before the chain can tighten and break his neck or cut off his blood supply.</p><p> </p><p>It was as though space-time itself was frozen around him, as though he were stuck in the split second right before the final plunge. Was his life flashing before his eyes or something?</p><p> </p><p>Blinking and trying to make out what the source of the light was he starts to make out a humanoid figure floating in the air, though it is much taller than any normal human and in the place of eyes it emits a glowing pink light:</p><p> </p><p>The Enchantress, in all her imposing glory.</p><p> </p><p>“You have allowed yourself to <em>fall</em> into ruin,” the otherworldly and beautiful woman says, her voice echoing loudly around the room and causing Forte to cover his ears, trying to block the sound. But it just resonated harder. “By <em>falling</em> for a monster.”</p><p> </p><p>“No!” Forte called out desperately, for once in his life legitimately frightened in his vulnerable state. So frightened, in fact, that he wasn’t even able to feel humiliated at being confronted like this, at her harsh words in the midst of his own attempt to off himself.</p><p> </p><p>It certainly wasn’t physical harm he was terrified of, and yet fear paralyzed him completely nonetheless. He had never been a religious man, but he now feared the prospect of being dragged to Hell... or <em>worse:</em> being forced to continue living in his misery and disgrace.</p><p> </p><p>“I <em>told</em> you this would happen! I had no other choice! You vowed that he would be mine! We had a deal but you <em>lied</em> to me, demoness!” he accused venomously, his deep voice cracking as he shut his eyes, trying to will her away. Was this some sort of madness-induced hallucination too? Had his sanity finally snapped completely?</p><p> </p><p>“I do not lie,” she replied sternly, her long, dark blonde hair billowing in the nonexistent breeze. “I spoke the truth when I told you that the Prince will be yours. I spoke the truth when I told you we had a pact...and I spoke the <em>truth</em> when I told you that the House of Bourbon has long been in my sights.</p><p> </p><p>Long ago that wicked clan invaded this sacred land to build this tower of corruption and vanity. They defiled nature, killed my children for sport and consumption and laughed in the face of my powers. For years I have watched the <em>Prince </em>and his fathers before him, wandering into my home with their hunters and desecrating my land.</p><p> </p><p>Despite this, I could not fight back. You see, there are laws that govern my interaction with the human world. I was unable to enter this palace so long as those who resided here placed their will against my admittance...but when <em>you</em> came into my domain and invited me in so willingly, it negated the charm, allowing me a bridge to cross into this dimension. I have been welcomed in by the darkness, and for that I <em>thank</em> you.</p><p> </p><p>Without you, evil one, I never would have been able to exact my revenge, to teach my <em>lesson</em> that this wretched family won’t soon forget. Our pact is what I shall fulfill to repay you for your favor, but it shall be on <em>my</em> terms so hear me now:</p><p> </p><p>Yes, the monstrous Prince shall be <em>yours</em>, but he shall no longer appear as the beautiful man you desire. Instead he shall take the form of what lies inside of his soul, as shall all of you who reside here, guilty by association as you are.</p><p> </p><p>He shall remain a <em>beast </em>until he reaches his 21<sup>st</sup> year. If he should not only be able to receive love but to also fall in love in return before this time, the spell will be broken. This will be your chance to have the life you want with him, and I shall keep you nearby to him to encourage this.</p><p> </p><p>You will be there for him when he needs you, and the availability of your proximity to him will allow you to more easily foster the love you desire. If, however, he reaches his 21<sup>st</sup> year without fulfilling the requirements, the spell shall last forever.</p><p> </p><p>He will either learn his lesson and become human again to carry my message on to the rest of his family as a testament of my power, or he shall suffer for eternity as a beast. Either way I am satisfied, so this is your decision and I leave the choice to you.”</p><p> </p><p>In utter disbelief, Forte can scarcely find any words to comment on this plan. He was confused, yes, and still frightened, but there was a twinge of something more. Twisted glee, perhaps.</p><p> </p><p>Who cares what Adam <em>looked</em> like? Yes he was beautiful as he was now, <em>divinely</em> so, but Forte loved him for far more than that at this point, and trading in his appearance would mean that Adam could be his after all!</p><p> </p><p>Sure it would mean sacrificing his <em>own</em> body too, but really, it had never done him much good anyway. It had only served to plague him with the sort of wicked temptations of the flesh that had gotten him into this mess in the first place.</p><p> </p><p>The human experience was overrated, weak, cruel, and unbecoming of a man of his talents and potential. It was well worth the trade, no matter what form he himself would take as a result.</p><p> </p><p>“Y-yes, Enchantress,” he croaks out finally, absorbing the information... though something still didn’t sit right with him. There was a big problem with this plan. “But what if someone <em>else</em> falls in love with him and breaks the spell?"</p><p> </p><p>“There will be measures taken to prevent this from occurring. Aside from turning him into a hideous beast, I will also place the enchantment on this castle itself. The very walls and designs within it shall become a labyrinth of darkness and fear, a vision of the hell that resides within it. None will dare enter these grounds after I am done shaping them.”</p><p> </p><p>Clasping at the chain which is wrapped around his throat, Forte ponders on this in his mind as he breathes unsteadily, still unsure of this precaution. He really wanted to take no chances here. He would <em>not</em> lose Adam to another and have that love cemented by magic itself.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t understand, Enchantress. Why can you not simply force the Prince to fall in love with me as a part of the spell? Surely that would be easier for us all, or is your intention to punish and test <em>me</em> as well?”</p><p> </p><p>He still did not trust her in the least at this point. She had already proven sneaky and treacherous in Forte’s mind, and clearly had her own designs she had been using him to carry out all along.</p><p> </p><p>“You once again appear to be unaware of the rules that govern my interaction with the human world. Suffice it to say, there are some things that my magic cannot touch. True love and the free will that determines it is sacred to the spiritual order and is therefore outside of my influence.</p><p> </p><p>Because of our deal I will give you every possible advantage in your quest to achieve your desire, but I cannot force love upon him through magic. That much is up to you, to earn it on your own. If you cannot, you will still have all of his time to yourself regardless.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, but Enchantress--”</p><p> </p><p>“Enough! I have given you this generous offer out of a respect for our bargain, but I have made my terms clear! I shall place a curse on him regardless of whether you agree to these optional factors or not. I have lived up to <em>my</em> end of the bargain-- he will be yours, as I vowed. Is this not enough to please you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I...” Forte paused at her anger as she silenced him. His whole body was weary and trembling with a mix of emotions as he came to realize and accept that she clearly would not be persuaded further.</p><p> </p><p>He had to make a choice now, and the only thing driving him was a desire to be as close to Adam as possible. To take this chance before he lost it for good. Even the worst case scenario involved in it was certainly miles better than <em>nothing, </em>at any rate...better than dying alone and afraid.</p><p> </p><p>With all her help to give him a head start, surely in time he could make Adam fall for him through good old fashioned charm and manipulation. He <em>had</em> to take her up on this chance. There was no other choice. “I want this deeply,” he expressed with finality.</p><p> </p><p>The spirit nods to him. "There is one last thing I must tell you,” she warns. “You chose to die here in your master's chambers, jumping before I could reach you. I halted you mid-attempt, but I am unable to reverse the inevitable course of a death, only the power of true love can do such a thing. Your life will be held in limbo while the curse lasts.</p><p> </p><p>In lieu of your freedom you shall be granted formidable powers of your own seeing as you already possess magic in your bloodline, but should you try to leave your captivity, try to step off your ‘stool', the chain shall succeed in killing you as you fall. Be careful with those bolts, for now they are all that are keeping you stable."</p><p> </p><p>Swallowing a lump of dread in his throat, Forte closes his eyes and sighs in acceptance of this. Once again, he had no choice. He had already made that rash decision, he couldn’t take it back now. He was essentially a dead man standing if he obeyed, and a dead man <em>not</em> standing if he didn’t. “Regardless,” he says in grim understanding.</p><p> </p><p>“Very well. With that, our pact shall be completed.” With a solemn look, the Enchantress raises one graceful yet powerful hand and Forte begins to feel himself shift and grow and morph. It is agonizing pain and discomfort and he lets out a piercing cry, not even able to look down at himself and see what was happening as the light was too bright.</p><p> </p><p>All he could hear over his own shouts of pain were her final words, her prophecy. “He who assists the divine justice shall receive divine power,” she says, her voice fading away as the light around him shifts to a bright, sickly green and he feels it enter his body, enter his <em>soul</em>. It both looks and burns like acid.</p><p> </p><p>“But if he should love a beast, let he be chained to that love for as long as he should live.” The reality of this setting in caused a feeling of panic to rush through Forte and he attempts to pull the chain off of his neck, but he realizes it’s too late. The chain is no longer there, and he no longer has hands.</p><p> </p><p>He was changed.</p><p> </p><p>The world faded to black.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                      If you must love someone</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                               Might I suggest you love yourself?</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                       Just think it through</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                           You'll never leave, and you will find</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                       You'll get more rest</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                             You'll always feel as good as new</b> </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Awakening with a start, everything is quiet and dark around him. How long has he been out? Is he in hell?….No, he’s in a room. He is no longer in <em>Adam’s</em> room, though he can see said bedroom through an open doorway directly across the large room from him….which, for some reason, is very far down.</p><p> </p><p>Taking in his surroundings, he looks down at himself and realizes he is indeed no longer human. Rather, he is now a pipe organ himself, and a <em>towering </em>one at that.</p><p> </p><p>Out of instinct he attempts to run toward the door even though he has no legs, but much to his dismay he finds that a small chain is indeed now attached to his side, bolting him to the stone wall.</p><p> </p><p>He struggles frantically to escape it’s confines, but once he feels himself start to tip over he lets out a cry of defeat and resigns himself to his fate as he remembers the Enchantress’s words of warning that he would die if he fell loose.</p><p> </p><p>He had <em>chosen</em> this, after all. Chosen to kill himself and then chosen to forego that death to become a sentient, enslaved organ. His sick love truly <em>would</em> bind him for all time, and that was his fate. Now he had to pay the price, all the while doing his best to be there for his young master to ensure that it was not all for nothing.</p><p> </p><p>And be there he was, through the thick and thin. Over time, his master’s temperament got worse and worse and his demeanor increasingly dark as he grew more and more frustrated with his lot, but any potential guilt Forte could have felt was snuffed out by one simple fact.</p><p> </p><p>Just as the Enchantress had promised, Adam as a beast spent most of his time with Forte and that combined with Forte’s newfound magical powers gave him ample opportunity to mark his territory on the Prince, to lure him into his confidence...to even become his <em>best </em><em>friend,</em>just as he had always wanted.</p><p> </p><p>Adam, for all intents and purposes, belonged to him. It wasn’t an easy endeavor of course and some days Adam was still particularly difficult to console but, overall, Forte had done a good job of managing to get him under control, to even keep him <em>interested</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Unlike in his human life when Adam had many other things to distract him, Forte’s upgraded gifts of music were of <em>use</em> to Adam now, and combined with his attentive care and thoughtfulness it allowed him to be useful to his master in ways he had only ever dreamed of before.</p><p> </p><p>Oh, it was nearly everything he had ever wanted! The two of them, able to go through everything together, to feel the darkest of emotions, to tell the deepest of secrets, to share the utmost of closeness that two people could possibly share.</p><p> </p><p>Yes, it was many of the composer’s deepest wishes come true, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. It had all been well worth it, even being bolted to the wall, and he didn’t so much as miss his human life at all. That tragic, painful existence was long forgotten now.</p><p> </p><p>The only thing he wished for now was that Adam would <em>also</em> forget the past, would stop seeking his old life back. While his grief for what he lost helped Forte keep him in his clutches, that was only good so long as it <em>was</em> hopeless, so long as there was no chance of the spell being reversed.</p><p> </p><p>The only way to ensure that was to keep anyone who might try to intrude upon their lives away, to ensure that Adam, out of desperation, never fell in love with anyone who could take away Forte’s whole world. To keep him as occupied as possible.</p><p> </p><p>Luckily, there were no visitors to the castle. The Enchantress’s spell had made sure that the castle had taken on an appearance that would reflect the inner turmoil of its master, and so even on the off chance that an intruder <em>w</em><em>ould</em> stumble upon the very remote palace they would surely be frightened away by it’s ghastly visage.</p><p> </p><p>Forte for his part loved the idea of the monstrous aesthetic, though he had never seen it with his own eyes since he was unable to leave the room. He just knew it helped keep interlopers at bay, and it helped keep <em>Adam</em> in the dark frame of mind that Forte needed him to stay in.</p><p> </p><p>But with the deadline of Adam’s 21<sup>st</sup> birthday fast approaching, Forte became more and more concerned that Adam would do something drastic. He had to try harder each day that passed to keep his lord distracted and pacified with him, to remind him of how content they were together, how Forte <em>cared</em> for him so deeply. To keep him drowning in his painful feelings, and to be the one lifeboat available to him.</p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, today provided the perfect opportunity: Christmas holidays. Forte used to <em>hate</em> the holiday, and granted he still despised the jolly spirit of it, but now he couldn’t help but be grateful every time the anniversary of the curse rolled around. For Adam was always <em>especially</em> ill-tempered on this day, more angry and hurt and vulnerable than usual.</p><p> </p><p>It was, after all, a very traumatic day for him, and rightfully so… And naturally, that meant it was a wound to be <em>exploited</em> for Forte’s benefit, another opportunity to hold Adam under his spell, to provide the comfort and understanding that only <em>Forte</em> could.</p><p> </p><p>For Adam’s sake too, of course. It would do him good to remind him that he wasn’t truly alone. That he had a dear friend, the <em>dearest</em> in fact, right at his disposal, forever there to look after his every need. Hidden away right next to his very bedroom to be accessed at his convenience<em>, </em>even.</p><p> </p><p>So when Adam, the Beast, stormed into Forte’s chambers that Christmas eve, Forte was already feeling quite confident in himself and absolutely delighted at the prospect of spending the whole night with Adam, alone. Adam was always the <em>best</em> company, even when he wasn’t.</p><p> </p><p>Though the only other person Forte had any contact with in this room to reference was Fife, who, even after having been turned into a piccolo, was still useful in that he was willing to follow just about any order Forte gave him under promise of that solo that lurked just over the horizon, out of reach.</p><p> </p><p>The old carrot and the stick routine worked wonders with him because he was so gullible and frankly stupid. But still dreadfully annoying. If it weren’t for the fact that Forte couldn’t move from his spot and needed Fife as his legs, he wouldn’t have bothered with the piccolo at all.</p><p> </p><p>Forte certainly couldn’t stand being around him when it wasn’t absolutely necessary, and to prevent any interruptions he had made it oh so <em>very</em> clear to Fife that he was not to be intruded upon when Adam, who couldn’t stand the pest either, was around.</p><p> </p><p>So it was always just the two of them, Adam and Forte, indulging in music and conversation and companionship. Perhaps, if he was lucky, he would get the chance to watch Adam sleep in his armchair again, all cozy by the fireplace.</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes Forte would purposefully play a berceuse to lure Adam into rest. It was particularly easy on the nights when Adam had been drinking, and those nights were increasingly common nowadays.</p><p> </p><p>Even though booze made Adam’s temper more unpredictable it also caused him to become less guarded, and therefore Forte encouraged Adam’s drinking tendencies. It had been a tendency he himself had shared when he was human.</p><p> </p><p>There were many times during periods of Adam’s intoxication when Forte would be tempted to admit how much he loved his master in the hopes that he could get it off his chest... But he never did, always afraid that no matter how drunk Adam was, he might remember it in the morning.</p><p> </p><p>Even when sober, though, Adam frequently needed rest, as he always had trouble sleeping unless Forte was there to play for him. Forte was <em>more</em> than happy to be of service, to have such a basic necessity of Adam’s functioning dependent entirely on him. It granted him immense power over Adam’s life.</p><p> </p><p>Of course he loved being with Adam while he was awake too, but watching him in the embrace of slumber was always a treat. He became so peaceful, so serene, his harsh features contrasted by the soft, flickering light of the flames... the way his face finally relaxed its tension and seemed at ease and free from the burdens of conscious life.</p><p> </p><p>Even in his beastly form, it was beautiful to behold. Almost adorable in a way, if that weren’t so disgustingly sappy a concept. He has to scold himself for even considering such a shamefully juvenile thought. For thinking of his master as something <em>cute</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Gently shaking his giant metal head to snap himself out of such foolishness, Forte puts on a gentle, assuring smile and peers down fondly at the Beast who is pacing back and forth in front of the crackling fire.</p><p> </p><p>As he often did, Forte thinks he knows <em>just</em> the thing to soothe his lord and he immediately begins to play him a nocturne, the one he knew was his master’s favorite.</p><p> </p><p>Yes, it was truly strange and yet wonderful to think that just a few years ago Adam had hated <em>all</em> of Forte’s music, and now he liked it so much that he even had a favorite piece!</p><p> </p><p>But, to Forte’s dismay, this time it does not appear to fulfill its intended purpose. The Beast turns to him and snarls viciously in warning. “Silence!”</p><p> </p><p>His brows quirking in surprise and slight hurt, Forte does not heed the warning and only pauses for a moment before opting to keep playing the music. He mustn’t stop now, <em>surely</em> his master still needed to be serenaded despite his protestations. Sometimes Adam didn’t know what was good for himself.</p><p> </p><p>“Master, you look <em>tense</em>,” Maestro Forte whispered calmly in concern, attempting to deescalate the situation. “Why don’t you have a seat in your favorite chair and let your old friend help you? Relax, get comfortable, let go of your worries and focus on my music, let it <em>guide</em> you.”...Guide him back to Forte, specifically.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want to sit here and listen, Forte!” the Beast bellowed, seemingly frustrated that Forte hadn’t obeyed and that the music was still playing, still penetrating his thoughts, still making his head foggy when what he wanted was to think <em>clearly </em>for once.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m tired of sitting here doing nothing! I’m tired of waiting around while my chances of ever being happy again slip away!” Aside from anger, the Prince also seemed scared in a way that Forte had only seen once from him, on the night the curse began.</p><p> </p><p>Forte wasn’t used to being yelled at anymore. In his old life, perhaps, but since the curse had begun and they had become so close that he had always been able to keep Adam under control. This sort of outburst directed at him was new, and worrying.</p><p> </p><p>Despite this, he attempted to remain calm and to keep trying to pacify Adam. He would just need to be patient is all. He mustn’t take his lord’s anger personally. It was Christmas after all, the most painful time of the year.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, but <em>Master</em>,” he implores carefully, choosing his tone and his words wisely, “I only want what is best for you. I know, oh yes I <em>know</em> how this time of year upsets my lord, how your plight tor<em>ments</em> you.</p><p> </p><p>But there is no use in dwelling on such matters when they only cause you pain. That is why I, your most humble servant and closest companion, am here to help you forget your pain, as I always have.</p><p> </p><p>Won’t you be kind to yourself and allow me to release you from the burden of your stress? I am here <em>with</em> you, my master, to share in your pain, to take it for you. Sit here with me. I assure you, my music is all that you need to quell your worries.”</p><p> </p><p>“Three more months, Forte. <em>Three months</em>!” the Beast shouts, stomping over to the snow-covered windowsill to broodily gaze out at the scenery below, which in the dead of night looked more like a dark abyss. Like the one in his heart that Forte had taken up residence in.</p><p> </p><p>Forte didn’t have to wonder what Adam meant by this. He already knew all too well of his lord’s approaching birthday and, truthfully, he was thrilled that in just over three short months all of his worries would be over.</p><p> </p><p>The stupid rose that counted down to his birthday would wilt, the curse, or <em>blessing</em> rather, would be permanent, and they would stay like this forever. Adam would be all his <em>forever</em>!</p><p> </p><p>Because of the spell they didn’t physically age, so they could spend immortality in this timeless bubble together. It sent tingles down his nonexistent spine. Though of course he had to pretend to be sympathetic, for Adam’s sake.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Master, only three mere months,” Forte agrees with a sigh of false despair. “Oh, if <em>only</em> it weren’t hopeless. If only it weren’t so painful to imagine that perhaps our fates could be different. But, alas,” he reminds gently, still playing his music, though more quietly now as though to reflect how he imagined Adam must be feeling on the inside.</p><p> </p><p>Sad, helpless, desperate. It was a feeling Forte knew all too well. He had been feeling that way himself the Christmas that this all began, standing up on that stool. And yet, look where he ended up after all!</p><p> </p><p>Things <em>did</em> get better. If Adam just held out a bit longer, got past his hubris and nostalgia, Forte was sure he too would come to see how wonderful things were now that they had each other, now that they weren’t <em>alone</em> anymore.</p><p> </p><p>Now that Adam knew he finally had someone who understood him, who cared about him. “Please, Master, I know it’s hard, but try to make the best of your predicament. I’m sure there is at least <em>one</em> thing you could come to appreciate about it.”</p><p> </p><p>This seems to set Beast off even more. Scrunching up his giant paw-like fists, he forcefully rips the tattered remains of a curtain off the window and whirls around to face his servant.</p><p> </p><p>“I thought I told you to <em>STOP PLAYING</em><em>, </em>you stupid wind-chime!” Beast bellows, his animalistic growl echoing across the large stone room so loudly that it caused Forte’s metal tubes to vibrate.</p><p> </p><p>Flinching away from Adam with wide eyes and mouth askew, Forte immediately stops playing. He can only stare down at the Prince, trying not to look as offended as he felt. “But, <em>Master...</em> I was just-” he begins, trying to explain himself.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want to hear it, Forte,” the Beast insists, his voice still hostile but less boisterous as he wraps his cape around himself and turns back away from Forte to go sit in his chair grumpily, facing the fireplace. “<em>I’m</em> in charge here, so you listen to what <em>I</em> tell you. I don’t want to hear your music right now.”</p><p> </p><p>Such words were like a knife cutting through Forte’s metaphorical chest. It felt like Christmas of 1775 all over again, that agonizing twang in his heart. <em>Didn’t</em> want to hear his special music? Surely it could not be so!</p><p> </p><p>Adam always <em>loved</em> his music nowadays, it was the best way Forte was able to be of service, how he was able to share such intimate closeness with his master. He couldn’t lose that, it was all he had! All <em>either</em> of them had. He would say <em>anything</em> to keep it.</p><p> </p><p>“….Apologies, Master. You are utterly correct, as always,” he forced himself to admit in defeat, the black holes where his eyes should be drooping sadly. “I live only to obey you, only to serve your every wish.”</p><p> </p><p>And that much was true. He legitimately wouldn’t be alive right now if not for what had happened, though of course Adam didn’t know that. He didn’t need to know how weak Forte had been.</p><p> </p><p>Grunting conflictedly, the Beast keeps silent for a moment and doesn’t say anything. The tense silence permeates the air. When he does speak up his voice is softer, almost apologetic. “I just need to think right now, Forte. Can you understand that?”</p><p> </p><p>Looking down at the floor guiltily, the musician nods, even though he knows Beast can’t see it. “Yes, Master, of course. I shall always accommodate your needs.” Though he has to wonder why, if Adam just wanted to think, he had chosen to come to <em>Forte’s</em> room knowing that Forte would try to play for him.</p><p> </p><p>Adam walks in, Forte plays. That’s how things always went, so why change up the equation now? There had to be more to it, for it was without a doubt that Adam had, one way or another, come here seeking his friend, not <em>just</em> to think. If he didn’t want the music, then perhaps he wanted to talk? For Forte to just shut up and listen?</p><p> </p><p>But it was so hard to sit there and listen without responding when Adam would speak of such things. It was dangerous to let him get too carried away with his musings of regaining his old life.</p><p> </p><p>What if he got it in his head to go out and do something about it? Forte couldn’t just let that happen, he had to take any chance to dissuade Adam from taking the wrong path, from hurting them both.</p><p> </p><p>Besides, it was painful to hear Adam complain about how his life was now. He always spoke as though he was absolutely miserable, as though he had no reason to keep on living.</p><p> </p><p>But wasn’t Forte’s companionship enough for him? Was he truly so <em>awful</em> that Adam wanted out so badly? They were together all the time, so why could Adam still not <em>see</em> him? Still not appreciate his existence?</p><p> </p><p>For another moment, they were both silent with their thoughts. Forte didn’t dare speak again out of turn unless Adam spoke first. He wasn’t stupid enough for that.</p><p> </p><p>The Prince’s eventual next words are so quiet that if Forte hadn’t stopped playing his music he never would have heard them. “No... you were right, Forte... It’s hopeless. Maybe you <em>think</em> I don’t know that, but I do...</p><p> </p><p>I know I’ll never get my life back,” he admitted in a voice too small to come from such a creature. “Even if someone did find the castle... there’s no way they could fall in love with a <em>monster</em> like me. It’s impossible.”</p><p> </p><p>Keeping his gaze down on the floor, Forte considers his next words carefully. He can’t help but want to comfort his beloved Prince, though he also doesn’t want to encourage the idea that Adam could find love from another source. “Oh, but your highness, you are <em>far</em> from a monster in my eyes,” he corrects sincerely.</p><p> </p><p>“You have taken a new form, yes, but inside you are still the same wonderful man you have always been. Perhaps not all of those who serve you can see this, but <em>I</em> do. <em>I </em>know the person you really are, and there is nothing worth changing about him.” That was it. That was the closest Forte could get to a confession without it being painfully obvious and backfiring horrifically in his face.</p><p> </p><p>He just hoped that his abnormally heartfelt words might spark some sense into Adam, that maybe he’d finally realize how Forte was the only one who understood him, the only one who accepted him, the only one who had consistently been there to <em>support</em> him at both his best and worst. How all this time Forte has cared for him from the depths of his very soul.</p><p> </p><p>But Beast just scoffs. Perhaps he wasn’t ready to hear such a thing, perhaps his mind wasn’t yet ready to accept such truths. He still fought against it, after all this time. That he was deserving of not just <em>respect</em>, but affection and unconditional love. Why couldn’t he just <em>see</em> it?</p><p> </p><p>Almost as though answering this unasked question, the Beast laments. “<em>Now</em> you’re wrong, Forte. It’s not just my body that’s hideous…. You must have heard the witch. I only look like <em>this</em> because...well, it’s who I was to begin with.</p><p> </p><p>I’ve <em>always</em> been a monster. That’s why all of this happened in the first place.... It’s all my fault, and I know that now,” he admits for the first time. “I’ve...I’ve doomed us, and all I want now is the chance to make things right again... No matter what it takes.”</p><p> </p><p>So shocked at hearing Adam admit to any personal wrongdoing, Forte can’t answer right away. He doesn’t even know what to say! It wasn’t healthy for Adam to question himself like this. It was a sign of mental ailment no doubt. Forte had to put it right, to shut that line of thinking down immediately.</p><p> </p><p>“Surely a <em>witch</em> cannot be counted on to speak the truth, Master. I am certain her false words were merely an expression of her vile spite, meant only to torment and confuse you in unwarranted guilt.</p><p> </p><p>Please, Master, listen to <em>my</em> words instead, the words of a friend who knows you so very well. You are perfect as you are,” he tried to convince while bracing himself for any potential backlash he might receive for daring to disagree.</p><p> </p><p>But instead of an explosion of anger, the Beast’s voice sounded….hurt. As though all the sadness of the two decades of his tragic life had finally caught up to him and was washing through his soul like turbulent waves. “Then why couldn’t anyone love me<em> before</em>? If I’m so perfect….if I’m not a monster...then why couldn’t my own <em>parents </em>love me?</p><p> </p><p>My mother died and abandoned me and my father criticized me... tried to change everything about me...he left me in the hands of that tutor…. never listened to me when I tried to tell him how I was treated, never asked me <em>why</em> I was so angry all the time... why I ran away.</p><p> </p><p>Then when he realized he couldn’t just fit me into his little box, the Prince who was convenient and obedient... he threw me away, he sent me across the kingdom like I never even existed...and he just left me here, Forte, just died and <em>left</em> me here alone.</p><p> </p><p>...And that’s not even considering how they treated me when I was younger! Maybe children are a lot to deal with, but they’re still... lovable, right? So what was wrong with <em>me</em>? If I wasn’t worthy of being loved as a<em> child</em>, then I won’t ever be...”</p><p> </p><p>Not a peep comes from Forte after this tirade. It had succeeded in rendering him entirely speechless, an admittedly difficult task. He had always known that these sort of things were true, but never could he have imagined that they continued to plague the Prince throughout the curse.</p><p> </p><p>He feels a pang of guilt for not stepping up in the past, though most of this stuff had happened well before he had ever met Adam. But that tutor, Monsieur Rigoureux….Forte had met that bastard. A Catholic priest with traditional morals and an even more traditional take on punishment.</p><p> </p><p>Forte could have set him up for an ‘accidental’ demise, and gladly, but it wouldn’t have changed the rift that had already grown between Adam and his father. His father would have just found another pious teacher to whip his son into shape, because the fact was...Adam was right. His father <em>hadn’t </em>truly loved him.</p><p> </p><p>That was something that even Forte couldn’t have fixed. He was important in the household servant hierarchy, yes, but still only a musician in the service of royals. His words had little influence before... but now they had a chance to make a difference.</p><p> </p><p>“It is unfortunate that we don’t always get the family we deserve,” Forte says quietly, reflecting on his experiences with his own mother. She had a tendency to be physically violent, and had given him a fairly bad beating with an iron rod on the Christmas that his infant brother had drowned in a frozen pond when Forte was <em>supposed</em> to be keeping an eye on him.</p><p> </p><p>She shouldn’t have gotten so angry, really. It had been one less responsibility to worry about, one less mouth to feed, and Forte had been able to focus on practicing his music and finding a job instead of being stuck babysitting. She would always overreact like that.</p><p> </p><p>But that had never bothered Forte deep down. He never felt pain, or much of anything really, over his upbringing. Even the anger had disappeared. After a few decades he was so far detached from it now that trying to empathize with Adam’s concerns was difficult.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t understand <em>why</em> something like that would bother Adam when it was long over and done with, a distant shard of the past. Adam was safe from all that now, and there was no use dwelling and living in regret.</p><p> </p><p>But then again, try as he might to hide it, Adam always had been a sensitive person, and while he didn’t necessarily relate to it Forte still had always admired that quality in him, how receptive Adam was to his surroundings and how deeply things affected him. It made him easier to manipulate.</p><p> </p><p>It was no wonder his emotions were so powerful and were always oscillating between extremes of high and low...and why he had to put up such a guard to protect himself from being hurt by every little thing. Adam’s anger was often very obviously a mask for his hurt and fear, and a shield against attracting more of it.</p><p> </p><p>“Try not to take it personally, Master. Their behavior was never a reflection of your value. It was never <em>your</em> fault. Just because your parents left something to be desired does not mean that <em>no one</em> loved you...that no one <em>does</em>. Perhaps you just haven’t realized it.</p><p> </p><p>You know, the best way to care for someone is to <em>prove</em> it rather than saying it. To be there for them when they need it.” His hints were getting stronger, but he just couldn’t spit it out entirely. Not even now. It was too risky.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                        Your freedom is </b> </em>
</p><p><em> <b>                                         T</b> </em> <em> <b>he most important thing, </b> </em> <em> <b>m</b> </em> <em> <b>y friend</b> </em></p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                     You must be strong </b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                      You mustn't bend</b> </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>This sentiment made Adam uncomfortable, put him on the defensive again. He didn’t like talking about feelings that made him look weak, and so he had to deflect. “Like <em>you’d</em> know anything about that! All you care about is your music,” Beast accused bitterly, crossing his thick arms in front of his chest.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t even care that nobody likes you. You don’t know what it’s like to need someone, to need their love and approval more than anything... but no matter what you do it’s always right out of your grasp! I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone, not even the witch who destroyed my life...who left me with this terrible existence.”</p><p> </p><p>Profoundly hurt and frustrated, Forte actually huffs out in annoyance at the irony. Clearly if Adam hadn’t pick up on it by this point when it was practically spelled out for him, he never would. And <em>again</em> he calls his life terrible, as though he weren’t insulting Forte, belittling everything he has done to keep Adam going.</p><p> </p><p>“We’ve been over this time and time <em>again</em>, Master. I <em>always</em> tell you, you ought not chase after love. Love, in any of its forms, is pathetic and dangerous. You needn’t <em>love</em> to be satisfied! In fact, it only makes everything <em>worse</em>…Trust me.</p><p> </p><p>You must accept this or you’ll tear yourself apart.” Just like Forte had long ago accepted the futility of hoping for any sort of relationship with Adam that wasn’t platonic. It was only masochistic to think about, and he wouldn’t wish the pain <em>he</em> felt on Adam either.</p><p> </p><p>“No!” Beast defied. “You’re wrong! You don’t <em>know</em> what I can do, so shut your pipes!” Rising from his chair, the Beast picked up and threw a thankfully non-sentient ottoman into the fireplace. It hissed and crackled in the smoke.</p><p> </p><p>“I may not be able to find anyone to love me, but I <em>can</em> go and find that wretched old hag. I’ll find her, and I’ll <em>destroy</em> her. I’ll beat her ugly face into the ground until she’s forced to change me back! You’ll see, Forte! Magic or not, she’ll be sorry she ever came here and messed with me! Maybe she’ll think twice next time.”</p><p> </p><p>Telling Adam what he could and couldn’t do, reminding him of his helplessness... it clearly hit a sore spot. Forte would have <em>known</em> that normally, but at this point he had been too frustrated to be cautious.</p><p>This was the danger of letting his emotions control him, of allowing his feelings to bubble to the surface. It just made the composer angry, and when he got angry, he got careless and impulsive. Made mistakes that were against his better judgment.</p><p> </p><p>“No!” Forte yelled as he saw Adam make his way toward the doors. Adam was really going to head out into the stormy winter night, out into the dark forest, to fight a literal spirit with his bare fists. He really <em>was</em> going to do something so reckless, wasn’t he?</p><p> </p><p>This could ruin everything! Adam would get himself killed! Or if not, he’d surely find out that <em>Forte</em> was the one who invited the Enchantress into their lives in the first place! Forte had to stop this madness.</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t go out there like this, Master! I won’t let you!” the organ warned, pressing the keys on his keyboard down firmly until they made a horrible, violent noise that was so loud that it caused the exit doors to slam shut. “I couldn’t stand to see you hurt!”</p><p> </p><p>He knows Adam could break down those doors if he wanted to, knows he is strong enough to escape...but he hopes that maybe, just maybe, he won’t <em>want</em> to. That maybe seeing how Forte wants to protect him will wake him up to reality. But it’s a naive hope.</p><p> </p><p>Smashing his fists against the doors and snarling in frustration, instead of breaking down them down the Beast turns and begins bounding toward Forte, his eyes almost red with rage.</p><p> </p><p>For the second time in his life, Forte actually feels afraid. Even though he’s thirty feet tall he still instinctively lurches away from the Beast and braces himself to get attacked... but instead of launching onto him, the Beast stops mere feet away, his claws ripping up the floor below.</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t stand to see me <em>hurt?!</em>” He yells so hard that it actually, fittingly, hurts Forte’s pipes even though he’s used to loud noises. “I’m <em>already</em> hurt! I’ve always <em>been</em> hurt!</p><p> </p><p>What makes you think you can stop it now?! That you can stop me from going out there and getting what I want?! I’ll get it or I’ll or die trying! Either way it’s better than this...this--this <em>hell</em>!!”</p><p> </p><p>That was it. Forte couldn’t take it any more. He couldn’t stand by and listen to another word of this. “And what <em>exa</em><em>a</em><em>a</em><em>ctly</em> is so hellish about it, <em>M</em><em>aster</em>?! Have I not gladly been here for you every day, at every hour, at every <em>moment</em> that you’ve asked of me?!</p><p> </p><p>Have I not put aside every other concern, every other aspect of my life to exist solely at your beck and call, to be the true friend you’ve always needed, only to receive this utter lack of <em>gratitude</em>?!</p><p> </p><p>I’m your prisoner here, Master! I’m <em>chained</em> here just to serve you! Because of the curse, I can’t leave! You’re all I <em>have</em>! My entire <em>world</em> is in this room<em>, </em>yet you treat me like an object to be used and forgotten about, only there when it’s convenient!</p><p> </p><p>And still, I accept this fate so that I might be there to help you, to do as you ask of me! I only ever do my <em>best</em> to make your life here good, and yet it’s never enough! So <em>t</em><em>ell </em>me, what exactly is so <em>terrible</em> about the way things are, about <em>me</em>, that you’re willing to give up your life to escape it??”</p><p> </p><p>He bent down low into Adam’s face as he shouted, enraged as wisps of green magic billowed out from his pipes. “<em>WELL</em>?? I’m absolutely <em>dying</em> to know! Don’t keep me waiting, now! You’ve already done enough of <em>that </em>to last a lifetime!”</p><p> </p><p>But Adam didn’t seem to process any of that, or if he did, he didn’t care. His eye twitched and he looked like he had pure murder on his mind as his voice got eerily cold all of a sudden. “I’m only going to say this once, Forte.”</p><p> </p><p>Beast digs his claws in to the concrete floor to brace himself as he roars so ferociously that he almost sends himself flying back, the fur on his mane puffing up like a wild animal. “<em>O</em><em>pen</em>. <em>T</em><em>he</em>. <em>DOOOOOOR!!!</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Forte’s face contorts into the most evil scowl imaginable and a low, strangled growl emits from deep within his frame. But despite how absolutely furious he is, and how upset and hurt, he still knows that there is no point arguing further. Even if he didn’t obey, Adam would just bust the doors down anyway.</p><p> </p><p>He stares Adam down, a contest of wills. Dark thoughts enter his mind and for the briefest of moments he considers that maybe it is time to do what he thought about before the curse, to prevent Adam from leaving his grasp once and for all. To kill them both.</p><p> </p><p>But what if there was still a chance? Adam, stubborn and petulant as he was, was still Forte’s. He hadn’t found anyone else to steal him away, and that meant there was still hope.</p><p> </p><p>Standing in Adam’s way would only antagonize him, drive him further away from his grasp. He should wait and see what happened before reacting in the most extreme way. Wait until the absolute <em>last</em> minute.</p><p> </p><p>Chances are high that the Enchantress wouldn’t allow Adam to find her anyways, so on second thought there really wasn’t any huge risk of that. If he let Adam go, the stubborn thing would probably just stomp around in the snow for awhile and come back once he wore himself out.</p><p> </p><p>And if he didn’t come back soon enough then Forte would send Fife out looking for him to make sure that nothing bad had happened, that no harm had befallen him. It was the wisest choice to make, given the circumstances. He did not wish to make an enemy of the Prince further.</p><p> </p><p>And so, even though he is still quite cross, the Maestro breaks eye contact with his master and looks off to the side with a still-lethal scowl, wordlessly allowing the doors to open at the other end of the room.</p><p> </p><p>He can’t find it in himself to say another word, he doesn’t trust himself enough to not say anything else he’d regret later. He was too infuriated to communicate properly right now, so he just stares down angrily, waiting for Adam to move.</p><p> </p><p>At this point, Forte needed time alone too. He had always wanted to be around Adam but now he just needed a chance to clear his mind, to cool down before interacting with him further. Writing some new music, perhaps a toccata to show off later, would help.</p><p> </p><p>But even though Beast does indeed retreat with a low growl he picks up the wooden chest next to Forte’s keyboard as he leaves, cradling it under his arm... the chest that contained all of Forte’s papers, the pages he used to write his music with.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m taking <em>this</em> with me,” the Beast grunts under his breath in a petty attempt to get back at Forte by making sure he didn’t have access to the tools he needed to write music.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Forte looks up suddenly, wild-eyed and panicked. His composition sheets! “<em>No</em>,” he pleads in a raspy breath, no longer caring how desperate he looked and sounded. “That’s mine! You can’t take that! I <em>need</em> it, Master!” He was made of metal, and yet somehow adrenaline still coursed through him.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t care!” Adam retorted brattily, storming out the doors into his bedroom. He sticks his head back in to make one final taunt: “This castle is mine, and so is every<em>thing</em> and every<em>one</em> inside it. I can do whatever I want with <em>my</em> stuff.”</p><p> </p><p>He then slams the doors behind him and drags over a large table in the room to prop up against them so Forte couldn’t open them back up with his dumb magic music. So he couldn’t say anything else. Prince Adam, in any form, always had to have the last word.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as he had the doors propped shut they started to rattle behind him aggressively against the table as loud organ notes played, and it only increased in ferocity after not making any progress at dislodging it.</p><p> </p><p>“Stop it, Forte!” the Beast yelled from the other side even though he knows Forte can’t hear through the soundproof doors, throwing the music chest at them in frustration to make them vibrate and get his point across. The rattling stopped immediately.</p><p> </p><p>Even though Adam hadn’t threw the chest hard enough to cause it to splinter, it did smash the lock that was on the front and pages upon pages spilled out onto the floor.</p><p> </p><p>The Beast just stares at them stubbornly. These were all blank pages. Forte must keep the music he had already written somewhere else. Figures. That guy always kept a lot of stuff hidden.</p><p> </p><p>Just as he’s about to walk away and leave the pages on the floor to get all filthy, the Prince’s hesitates as some pages at the bottom of the pile catch his eye and he reluctantly turns back to get a closer look, curiosity temporarily overtaking his grouchiness.</p><p> </p><p><em>These</em> pages looks older, more worn down, and they stood out because they actually had writing on them. And unlike the rest, they were not music sheets but rather pages from some sort of notebook.</p><p> </p><p>Normally, Adam wouldn’t care about them nor would he have any interest in reading them...or anything else...but something about them calls to him and makes him bend over to pick them up.</p><p> </p><p>The ink was very faded, a lot of what was written was crossed out and he wasn’t the greatest at deciphering such fancy handwriting, but he could just barely make out the words nonetheless.</p><p> </p><p>The first was dated awhile before the curse had even began. Back when Forte was human, though it didn’t appear to be musical in nature. Perhaps worth reading after all?</p><p> </p><p>Sifting through the pile and picking out all the pages that had writing on them, the Beast gently carries them over to his small table that held the enchanted rose on it and he begrudgingly took a seat to read, careful not to let his claws rip the pages as he turned through them.</p><p> </p><p>At first he thinks they are lyrics of some kind of song. Maybe for one of Forte’s compositions? From what he can tell the pages go on in various poetic verses, each one just as vague as the last.</p><p> </p><p>Adam was never really interested in literature or poetry but he did remember enough from his lessons to be able to put a label to the sort of feeling encapsulated within the words: longing.</p><p> </p><p>Truthfully, he didn’t believe that Forte had the depth of feeling to be able to write something from such a perspective, even if it was just a narrative for a composition.</p><p> </p><p>If anything, he seemed entirely averse to the idea of love of any kind and so the fact that he would write poem after poem about a thing he claimed to despise, would write a whole <em>composition</em> about it, was confusing to say the least.</p><p> </p><p>His music had always been so dark, gloomy and depressing. Sobering. There was nothing dreamy or fanciful about it, which is part of why Adam had always hated it before, and liked it now. But <em>t</em><em>his</em> flowery narrative of hopeless pining and unhinged lust, it didn’t fit Forte’s theme.</p><p> </p><p>Honestly, it was so mushy that it made Adam slightly uncomfortable in his seat. He had never been good with sensitive feelings either, and he never would have been able to write anything like <em>this</em>. He wasn’t sure he had even felt anything like it before.</p><p> </p><p>What he does feel, though, is even <em>more</em> confused having read all of it than he had before, and he almost wishes he had left these pages on the ground. That he had left that very personal side of Forte undiscovered.</p><p> </p><p>That is, until he reaches the bottom of the pile. There, he finds a page slightly different from the others, and less wrinkled. It is entitled ‘An Urgent Matter’, and instead of being scripted in short lines, it is written in paragraphs. A letter.</p><p> </p><p>He almost doesn’t want to bother reading it until he sees the first line. ‘Dearest Adam,’ it read, glaring out at him like some sort of sign. Adam can feel his whole body go numb as his blood runs icy cold in his veins just from seeing it.</p><p> </p><p>Not a single coherent thing goes through his mind, it’s as though his thoughts are right on the edge of forming but stuck on some roadblock and unable to fully connect to his emotions.</p><p> </p><p>Frozen. Numb. He had no choice now but to continue, to plunge into the abyss. That was the only way to free himself from this trance-like state. From this mental paralysis.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><em>Dearest Adam</em>,</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I hope this afternoon has been treating you well since our last study session and that you have been able to find a bit of time for yourself in between your other duties. You truly deserve it.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Now, I am writing to you today because it has come to my attention that it was among your father’s last wishes to have you married off to a suitable bride in the near future. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Try as I might, and <b>oh</b> have I tried, I cannot find it in myself to stand idly by and watch as such a thing occurs, at the very least without feeling assured that I have done everything within my power to make my feelings known first: Namely, that I am in love with you, Adam. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Yes, love. Deep, passionate, filthy love. The sort too profound for the mind to fully comprehend. You may think it strange and unexpected, particularly coming from a man like myself of such few bonds and attachments... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>And you are absolutely right. It is entirely unfathomable, even to myself. Yet here, I can only attempt to convey it to you the best way I know how aside from my music, which you do not seem to take to much to my discouragement.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>In an attempt to make clear my thoughts, I have to ask: do you know what it’s like, Adam? To have your entire being torn apart over and over by the sight of someone, by their mere existence? Because I do. Oh, do I ever! It hurts so dreadfully, and yet how I love it! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I can’t and won’t hold it back anymore! You see, my beloved Adam, from the moment we first met my thoughts have been consumed by you. Your unrelenting magnanimity, your rebellious fervor, your unearthly beauty, your unwavering strength of character. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>How it thrills and confounds me in equal measures, sets my very soul ablaze with longing! Oh, the things I could do to you, Adam, if only you would let me. If only you would allow me to show you...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>As I sit all alone in my chambers writing you a letter I very well may never send, thinking of you once again, I can’t help but wonder as I have many a time before: have you ever, per chance, had a similar thought about me? Even a little one? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Perhaps you have, while in the comfort and privacy of your bed at late evening or the embrace of a steamy bathtub at dawn’s earliest light, imagined my arms as a source of warmth and protection too? As a place of safety and uninhibited pleasure, of both serenity and passion?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Surely not, and yet….the possibility tantalizes me to my core. I must admit, each night I lose sleep thinking about it. Thinking of you thinking of me. Tell me, is this really such an absurd notion? To hope that I impact your life even a fraction of the amount that mine revolves around yours?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>For even though you probably don’t know it, you have enriched my life so much just by entering it. You inspire my music, you give my days meaning, and you fill my gloomy spirit with the sort of affection I have always felt deprived of before meeting you. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The sort I find ghastly but have come to accept solely <b>because</b> I love you so, and I can no longer deny that glaring fact lest I meet my own doom without acting upon it...lest I wander too close to the flame as it wildly burns.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You are that fire, Adam. And though sometimes it sears me, your radiant, blinding light has shone upon me like a beacon and illuminated my once dismal, empty life with hope I had never thought possible, hope I had feared to dream of. I’m afraid I can no longer live without it.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>With you to thank for all of this, I know you owe me nothing and yet I write you now asking one thing, only one, of you. That is, I require only your deepest consideration before a direct response to this letter. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You hold my very life in your hands, so please, I ask more urgently than I have ever asked in all my years that you will hold on to these words for as long as you need, as long as it takes to weigh the full gravity of them. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Should you come to the conclusion that something more than what currently exists between us could potentially develop, should you feel even the <b>slightest</b> hint of the same sort of feelings that haunt me day and night, even the most minuscule spark of them, please do inform me. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>And if not, oh my heart aches to think about it, but if you <b>truly</b>, after the deepest of soul-searching, find that you could never return my amour on any level, by all means, be as upfront about it as you are in all of your dealings. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Your candidness is one of the numerous qualities I’ve always admired in you, and I wouldn’t stand to see you lose it now, even for the sake of sparing my feelings. So please, do not concern yourself with such things.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I would ask that you try not to think about what could happen to me after you respond, and instead merely tell me the honest truth so that I may finally be set free from this prison in my heart once and for all, one way or another.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Perhaps you may think it is shameful for a man to desire another man, and you would not be alone in thinking that. But I ask you, what is so wrong about my love that it should be deemed unacceptable based solely on my body? Is it not even more worthy than that of the weaker sex’s?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I would truly do anything for you, Adam. Absolutely anything. I bet that feels good, doesn’t it? To have an older, experienced man who yearns to take care of you like that? To take care of you in <b>all</b> ways? Oh yes, I could do so many unforgettable things to make you feel so very good. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Would you like to know what they are? Would you like to find out what sort of forbidden pleasures I have in store for you? I’m sure you’re smart enough to guess some of them, my darling, but hopefully you shall find out for yourself soon enough.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Should you deny me, though, despite these reasons not to, or should those among the palace who may seek to control you and prevent you from taking your own path find out what I have intended and attempt to forbid me from taking you as my own, then I take comfort, and hope you will too, in that I shall always be with you regardless... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>With you whenever you feel the gentle caress of a breeze in an otherwise stagnant hallway, or the soft moan of your door creaking open at midnight, or, heaven help me, the secret touch of your own hand upon the most sensitive parts of yourself.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>With all this at stake, it is important to consider my proposition with an equally careful hand. That being said, I’m sure you realize by now that it would be a profound understatement to say that I await your response with bated breath, to see in which way you choose to permanently steal mine.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>So, now that you know how completely you have broken me down to such jagged bits of depravity, to my barest essentials, there is only one thing left to ask: will you make me whole again? Will you be <b>mine</b>, my love? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Forever yours,</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>R. G. Forte</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Adam’s eyes scanned over it again and again, going through it what felt like at least a dozen times as though if only on the next reading it would provide some clarity. Some sense. But it doesn’t. It’s just a letter. Just words on a paper, and nothing changed no matter how many times he read it with his own eyes.</p><p> </p><p>The words weren’t going to change. They weren’t going to jump off the page incarnate and slap him across the face until he understood. It was up to him to figure them out.</p><p> </p><p>Oh, Adam wasn’t stupid enough to misunderstand the point. Even he in all his obliviousness couldn’t miss something stated so bluntly, laid out so factually for him. What he needed to understand, however, was his own <em>response</em> to what he saw.</p><p> </p><p>What did he think of it? How did it make him <em>feel</em>? At this point in his life, he was so cut off from every emotion other than anger that it was a struggle to know where to even<em> begin</em> getting in touch with his more delicate feelings. So where to start?</p><p> </p><p>Well, taking a deep breath, he goes back in his mind to his reading comprehension studies, blocking out the parts where his tutor was being an absolute asshole and only focusing on the lessons themselves.</p><p> </p><p>According to them, if you found a piece of writing too overwhelming, too complex to comprehend and weren’t sure where to begin deciphering it internally, the best thing to do was to start with the simple things first. Ignore the message, and just focus on the writing itself.</p><p> </p><p>It is very well-written on an objective level, he decides with a nod to himself, which was unsurprising as Forte had always been rather loquacious and long-winded. The man used a lot of words Adam didn’t even understand half the time...</p><p> </p><p>And yet Adam had always went along with it, as though pretending he understood everything Forte said. Why was that? Why had he been afraid to look dumb in front of Forte? He was objectively just a servant, after all. It shouldn’t matter <em>what</em> he thought of Adam.</p><p> </p><p>Was it just an ego thing? A need to feel superior to his former music teacher, despite also being his master? But no, they were more than just instructor and student, more than just servant and master now. They were friends, too. Close friends.</p><p> </p><p>That meant that on some level, Adam had wanted Forte to respect him for <em>personal</em> reasons. Even though this is an uncomfortable revelation, Adam feels a bit more at ease now that he has broken the seal and allowed a reaction of any kind to come out. He feels slightly more in control now.</p><p> </p><p>Continuing to breathe, he looks a bit deeper at the words. They were printed neatly, but very thick, and contained an impressive vocabulary, which meant that the letter was carefully written, not in haste or impulse but rather painstaking consideration.</p><p> </p><p>He also notices that the letters are in fact so neat and thick that they are almost stiff, as though the writer, Forte, was nervous while writing it. So nervous that his hand went weak and he had to overcompensate to control it by pressing very firmly and keeping his grip rigid.</p><p> </p><p>Is that why Forte had never sent it, despite clearly feeling so strongly? Was he as nervous writing it as Adam was reading it? This possibility opens the gateway to clarity, Adam’s mind finally making the connection.</p><p> </p><p>That <em>was</em> how Adam felt right now, wasn’t it? <em>Nervous</em>. But it wasn’t like any sort of nerves he had felt before. It wasn’t like when his father would call for him and he would have to walk over, anticipating the moment the King would yell insults at him and berate him in front of the court.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t even the sort of anxiety he would feel when someone tried to tell him what to do and it wasn’t something he felt capable of delivering. His heart was beating in his chest like it had then, yes, but this was less of a fear and more of an...exhilaration? Excitement? Was that the right word?</p><p> </p><p>It was confusing, but not inherently bad. He didn’t feel <em>bad</em>, per say. Just...different. A bit vulnerable, but in a way that didn’t require a fight or flight response for once. He could stay here instead, focused in the moment.</p><p> </p><p>His intense, deep blue eyes bore holes into the page with relentless scrutiny...and then the full reality hits him, delayed, yes, but with a force he’s never known possible. <em>Forte</em>….once his music teacher, his court composer, and now his dearest friend...has been in love with him all this time?</p><p> </p><p>Has not only been attracted to him sexually, but has harbored such <em>distinct</em> and passionate sentiments for him romantically? Suddenly, a lot of things are starting to make sense. A lot of long overdue connections are being made inside Adam’s mind.</p><p> </p><p>It really had been so awfully <em>obvious</em>, hadn’t it? Forte may have been good at keeping secrets, but this one was so big, so <em>consuming</em> that only a self-centered ass would have missed it. Was Adam truly so selfish, so absorbed in his own life that he had been blind to all the clues?</p><p> </p><p>He had never once thought of Forte in this way...but was it because he had never thought about Forte <em>at all</em>? Only used him for company, as an echo chamber for his own angst and ego, without considering his so-called best friend’s needs in return?</p><p> </p><p>Granted he had never really thought of <em>anyone</em> in a romantic way before, but….how is this the first time he’s ever really seen Forte as an individual with wants and desires of his own?</p><p> </p><p>Something <em>was</em> seriously wrong with Adam after all. The Enchantress had been right. Other people had <em>always</em> just been things to him, even before the curse had made that a literal fact.</p><p> </p><p>Dropping the pages on the table, the Beast looks conflicted and in distress. He really <em>has</em> been such a monster, hasn’t he? Was Forte suffering all this time in his secrets, too ashamed and afraid to come forward? Why hadn’t he just come <em>forward</em>?!</p><p> </p><p>...But no, on second thought, Adam couldn’t blame him for not coming forward. He had never given Forte, or <em>anyone</em> for that matter, a reason to believe that he could handle any sort of emotional confrontation in a mature way.</p><p> </p><p>Forte probably feared he would lose Adam altogether if he came forward, and he might have been right about that. If Adam had seen this letter at the wrong time he wouldn’t have been ready to hear it, to accept it. He wouldn’t have reacted well.</p><p> </p><p>If Forte had sent it back then, Adam probably would have tore it up and simply avoided the man out of discomfort, if not outright blown up at him out of insecurity. That’s just the sort of person Adam had been back then.</p><p> </p><p>It was for the best that Forte hadn’t sent the letter back then. It had to be now, now was the only right time. It was as though destiny had stayed Forte’s hand back then and caused Adam’s to pick up that chest today.</p><p> </p><p>He may still have a myriad of person issues to sort through, but his beastly dilemma had succeeded in granting him <em>some</em> increased amount of self-awareness. He was in a better place now to consider what was written, how Forte felt about him.</p><p> </p><p>...But then that begged the question if Forte still felt this way at all. This letter was written <em>before</em> the curse. So much had changed since then. Everything, really. They hadn’t known each-other well back then, and Adam had still been attractive.</p><p> </p><p>Not only was Adam hideous now but, unlike the Forte of the letter who idolized Adam’s good qualities, present-day Forte had gotten to know him so well that it couldn’t be possible that he could see all of Adam’s flaws and still love him. No one could, right?</p><p> </p><p>But that thought reminds the Prince of the conversation they had just had, before the argument. What Forte had said, that perhaps someone <em>does</em> love him and he just hasn’t realized. That he was perfect <em>because</em> of his flaws, not despite them.</p><p> </p><p>Forte had subconsciously tried to make it so obvious all this time, hadn’t he? And yet still, Adam had been so caught up in his own drama and self-delusion that he couldn’t accept the gift that was freely given to him. Just like the night of the curse...</p><p> </p><p>Guilt starts to tug at the Dauphin’s heartstrings. Surely he could have handled the whole situation better, been more of a comfort to Forte for a change instead of leaving him <em>hanging</em>, and worse, attacking him like that out of insecurity and petty anger.</p><p> </p><p>And then, to top it all off, depriving him of his one source of comfort: his music. The poor man had literally <em>begged</em> him not to take it away….Is <em>this </em>why Forte had been adamant that he not take the chest? Did he even remember these letters? Either way, Adam was sure he had handled it poorly.</p><p> </p><p>Though what would he have even said in reply to such a thing if he <em>had</em> realized sooner? He had been so sure he wasn’t worthy of love, wasn’t capable of <em>receiving</em> it even, that he hadn’t stopped to think what he would do if he found it.</p><p> </p><p>It had seemed pointlessly painful to muse about, so he had taken Forte’s advice and not bothered to go too deep into his own fantasies and softer feelings. But what <em>were</em> his feelings about it? Most importantly, did he return <em>Forte’s</em> feelings?</p><p> </p><p>Just moments previous he had been ready to go absolutely postal on the composer, had been absolutely<em> furious</em> with him and didn’t want to see his big creepy metal face or hear his loud pretentious voice again for the rest of the night.</p><p> </p><p>But now, he found those feelings of rage had vanished completely and were replaced with…..pity? Empathy? Understanding? Kinship? Something more? Whatever it was, he had never felt it before and he needed to investigate further.</p><p> </p><p>Then, another realization hits him. He had been so blindsided in shock at this unexpected revelation that the thought hadn’t even occurred to him to connect Forte’s feelings with the <em>curse</em> until now. Which was surprising, because the curse was pretty much all Adam thought about ever since it had started.</p><p> </p><p>Was this….could this be the ‘prophecy’ of true love the Enchantress had spoken of? Was it possible? Was he just dreaming all of this out of loneliness and desperation...or could <em>Forte, </em>an unlikely hero admittedly<em>,</em> be the one to break the spell and save them all?</p><p> </p><p>Adam starts to panic and he realizes for the first time in his life that he can’t deal with a situation on his own, can’t just punch or yell his way through it. It had just gotten <em>way</em> too loaded to risk making an error. He needed help, and he needed it badly.</p><p> </p><p>He had always, both before and during the curse, rejected and scorned the unsolicited advice of his servants based on the fact that he didn’t think he needed it. He always prided himself on his independence and strong decision-making, and to offer him advice would be to insult his autonomy.</p><p> </p><p>But this time it was different. After everything that had happened, his own weaknesses and failings were laid out before his eyes, readily apparent. Doing things his way had messed up <em>everything, </em>so it was time to do the right thing for <em>everyone</em> for once.</p><p> </p><p>He needed to swallow his pride and accept when he was out of his element in matters of the heart, especially when it came to romance and things of an erotic nature. He was up the creek without a paddle and he needed to find someone who could throw him a lifeline.</p><p> </p><p>...And in fact there <em>was</em> one person around who could help him, one person who was renowned within the castle and possibly all of France as a shameless flirt and casanova... one little romeo who had already tried many times to give Adam advice on dating before.</p><p> </p><p>Sure this person was kind of a player who was more into fooling around than steady relationships so his input had to be taken with a grain of salt in this circumstance, but he still had far more experience in wooing and love than Adam did. There wasn’t really much of a choice.</p><p> </p><p>Time was of the essence, so in his desperation Beast turns to the one person who had a prayer of a chance to help him, even if said person <em>was</em> irritating as all hell: “LUMIERE!!!” Beast roars, loud enough for his voice to carry throughout the palace walls and find its intended target.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                         Don't talk for hours</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                         Don't send flowers</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                         Don't write poems</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                 Don't sing songs and dance</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                            Beneath the stars that shine above</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                         Don't fall in love</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                          Oh, don't do it </b> </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Sure enough he can hear frantic scrambling in various rooms, at first distant and far away but growing closer and closer within a matter of seconds. It never took long for his servants to reach him once he called for them, his temper had made sure of that.</p><p> </p><p>Doors bursting open in a split second, Lumiere the candlestick sprints in, or <em>hops</em> at full speed rather as he no longer had legs. He settles in front of his master, clearly out of breath as he tried to regain his composure.</p><p> </p><p>“Your highness,” the Frenchman says in his thick accent as he offers a bow, using the opportunity to try to subtly smooth out some of the wax on his candle-face that was smudged near his mouth so Beast wouldn’t see. It didn’t work. “How may I <em>a</em><em>ss</em><em>i</em><em>s</em><em>t</em> you?”</p><p> </p><p>Beast just gives him a deadpan look, trying to ignore that whole display. It was unprofessional for Lumiere to be off canoodling when he was supposed to be at work, but in this case Beast could forgive it since it sort of proved that he had made the right decision in calling Lumiere for this matter.</p><p> </p><p>“I need your...” No, that wasn’t right. He didn’t want to come off like he <em>needed</em> Lumiere for anything. Especially advice. “I <em>want</em> to hear what you think about a certain situation.” That’s slightly better. Less desperate and humble, at least.</p><p> </p><p>Still, the candle looked surprised at this as he looked up at Beast from the floor. “Of-of <em>course</em>, your highness!” Lumiere obliges, jumping up onto the small table his master was seated at to be more face-level with him. “And might I ask, eh, what <em>s</em><em>ort</em> of problem eez zis?”</p><p> </p><p>This was unexpected to Lumiere for sure. Adam had never made this sort of request before, <em>especially</em> from Lumiere. In fact he would get irrationally violent any time someone tried to offer their opinion, even on small things like what food and beverage was appropriate for breakfast.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s about...you know, love and stuff,” Beast grumbled under his breath, hiding Forte’s letters behind his back so Lumiere couldn’t see them. He didn’t want to be too specific, he was only looking for general advice...</p><p> </p><p>Partially because it was embarrassing, and partially because he wanted advice that was unbiased. He knew most of the castle residents weren’t fond of Forte, and aside from that factor, he didn’t know whether Lumiere would judge the situation.</p><p> </p><p>But Lumiere doesn’t seem to mind how vague it was. His face absolutely lights up in joy and excitement as his flames glow brightly and he jumps up and down, shaking the Beast’s hand in congratulations. “Oh, your <em>h</em><em>ighne</em><em>ss</em>! Zis eez excellent news, no?”</p><p> </p><p>Snatching his hand away and mumbling incoherently, Beast tries not to make eye contact. “Look, I’m not saying anything for sure... It’s just hypothetical, okay? I just want to know what you think about it because you’re…. sort of an expert and stuff. It’s no big deal, so stop acting all weird about it.”</p><p> </p><p>Lumiere isn’t falling for it, and he gives Beast a knowing smirk as he elbows him gently. “But of <em>course</em>, your highness.” Wink wink. Nudge nudge. “And I can assure you zis, eh, hypozetique l’amour, it will remain entirely between us.”</p><p> </p><p>“I told you to <em>stop</em> it, Lumiere!” Beast grouches as he slams his fist down hard on the table to bounce the servant and get him to stop nudging him and being all smooth. “If you’re not going to stop messing around I’ll just...well I’ll just throw you out!”</p><p> </p><p>Putting his hands in front of himself apologetically to calm his master’s anger, Lumiere chuckles nervously, still trying to seem charming. “Ah, yes, your highness. My <em>apologies</em>, please. Continue, continue.”</p><p> </p><p>Rolling his eyes, Beast eases up his tensed muscles as he tries to figure out where to start. “Okay... now let’s say, <em>hypothetically</em>, that maybe there was... sort of someone...who <em>kind of</em> had feelings for me. Or something...” he began, drifting off awkwardly.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, yes? Go on, Master~” Lumiere encouraged, leaning forward and resting his chin on his ‘hands’ as though he was invested in listening to a really interesting story around a campfire. He was a sucker for romance, and he was also hopeful this might mean the end of the curse.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t rush me!” Beast chides, trying to pick up where he left off. “Anyway... say there was someone who did. You know, have feelings or something. For me. But they didn’t know that <em>I </em>know that they d—might. That they might. Hypothetically.”</p><p> </p><p>Lumiere just stays silent with an interested look on his face, waiting for Beast to continue his rambling as he expects his master isn’t done talking yet but doesn’t want to rush him this time. Apparently this was the wrong move yet again.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Well</em>??” Beast grunts expectantly, losing his patience yet again. A bad habit, really, and one he still hadn’t broken no matter how much time went by and no matter <em>how</em> big a piece of humble pie the Enchantress had served him.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Well <em>what</em>, your highness?” Lumiere replies with an anxious smile that was illuminated from the glowing pink light of the enchanted rose, genuinely confused but trying to follow along and keep Beast pacified as always.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Well</em> what do I--?!” Beast shouts, then becomes aware of himself again and tries to lower his tone, but it’s still tense because he whispers through gritted teeth. “What do I <em>do</em> about it?” He hopes he hasn’t made a mistake in calling upon Lumiere for something so serious and urgent.</p><p> </p><p>“I—well that <em>depends</em>, your highness!” Lumiere insists, trying to assuage his lord’s wrath. “I need to know more in order to give you my, eh…..<em> informed</em> opinion!”</p><p> </p><p>“But I already<em> told</em> you! What more could you need to know?” Beast glances around, trying to make sure his previous yelling hadn’t caused any unwanted attention around them.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, for starters, I would like to know who zis person could be!…. Hypothetically, of course!” he adds quickly in self-preservation. He was learning from his trial and error, since talking with the Prince was always walking on eggshells.</p><p> </p><p>They had no visitors, and so Lumiere was admittedly quite curious who in the castle could have fallen in love with the Prince. Especially with a temper like <em>that</em>. One of the maids, perhaps? A bit shocking for a member of royalty to find love with a servant, but who was he to judge?</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not going to tell you,” Beast insists, crossing his arms in front of his chest stubbornly like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Next question.”</p><p> </p><p>Making a noise of exasperated disappointment, Lumiere gestures imploringly with his arms. “But you must tell me<em> something</em>, zen! What about you, your highness? Do you, eh, how should I say, <em>return</em> zis l’amour<em>?…</em> Hypothetically.”</p><p> </p><p>“Stop saying that, I <em>know</em> it’s hypothetical!” Beast growls, getting embarrassed further by the situation. “And...I don’t know. I don’t know what I would feel about it. It’s a lot to process….that’s why I wanted to know what <em>you </em>think about it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Surely you <em>must</em> know,” Lumiere insists, giving the Beast a charming grin as he dares to nudge him again. “Look <em>inside</em> yourself, Master! Zink about zis lady, eh, how she makes you feel when you are around her! Ze heart <em>know</em><em>s </em>what it wants!”</p><p> </p><p>Scrunching up his face in bewilderment, Beast tries to stay patient despite feeling the pressure of time up against him. It was hard to stay calm. “That makes no sense! What are you even <em>talking</em> about?”</p><p> </p><p>Leaning in, Lumiere hushes his own tone. Perhaps his master was too disconnected from his emotions to even <em>recognize</em> them. He’d have to keep trying. “Ze body, it does not lie, your highness...” he trails off, gesturing vaguely. “So how does it feel...when you imagine zis woman? Does she awaken <em>la passion</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Beast says quietly, getting awkward again. He wasn’t about to correct Lumiere for assuming the wrong gender, either. “I...I don’t know….” He was ready to turn invisible if he could, but of course <em>that </em>hadn’t been part of the curse unfortunately.</p><p> </p><p>“Come now, Master! Zink of ze two of you together! Close your eyes and imagine ze scene,” he prods, boldly wrapping a spindly arm around the Beast’s shoulder as he tries to paint a picture for him. Beast sighs and shuts his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“It eez peaceful. Ze sun, she has set...zere is music playing softly in ze distance. You sit across from your <em>amie... </em>you just finished a romantic candlelit dinner, and <em>what</em> does she do, the minx? She reaches over to take your hand and smiles at you!</p><p> </p><p>You look at her, and zere eez a beautiful face staring back at you! Ze mood eez right, you are alone, you can see it in her eyes! She wants you, Master! Now <em>what do you feel</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>“I feel nauseous,” Beast admits more honestly than he was comfortable with. “There’s a pit in my stomach and my chest feels tight. I want to get up and...run.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah yes, les papillons de l’amour!” Lumiere exclaims happily. “You must push past zem, Master! You are safe here, zis eez <em>your</em> fantasy! Anyzing you want can happen here. Now go on, what <em>else</em> do you feel?”</p><p> </p><p>Adam couldn’t help but think about the letter again. It had made him feel nervous and awkward, but there was more too. ‘<em>Would you like to find out what sort of forbidden pleasures I have in store for you?</em>’ Those written words had stirred something in him.</p><p> </p><p>Adam had never really been much interested in sexual relations before and it was custom for the Dauphin of France to be a virgin until his wedding night so he had never slept with any of the girls his father tried to set him up with, nor did he feel any particular desire to.</p><p> </p><p>Of course he had been physically <em>aroused</em> before, but it was only a biological urge. Sexual impulse to him had been like it was for most young men: taken care of by himself. It was never in <em>response</em> to anyone. He had never found anyone he liked enough for that sort of thing.</p><p> </p><p>But now he couldn’t deny that no matter how uncomfortable it made him, certain particularly suggestive parts of Forte’s letter had turned him on…. but whether that was an indication of actual love, or just the hormonal reaction of a touch-starved twenty-year-old man was a whole different story.</p><p> </p><p>Then again, was it normal for the typical hormonal young man to experience this reaction in response to another <em>guy</em>? Adam had never given any thought to his own sexuality before. Laying with another man was not something that was talked about in any good light.</p><p> </p><p>In fact, it was against the law….not that he cared much for the law or listening to what high society told him he should and shouldn’t do. He had always rebelled against all of the petty gossip and the social norms of Versailles.</p><p> </p><p>Putting the issue of legality aside, he wasn’t exactly opposed to the thought of being with another man….no less than he was the idea of being with a woman, anyways. It really just depended on the person in question, and he now realizes that Forte is more than just a man to him. He is….<em>Forte.</em></p><p> </p><p>Forte, the man who had always been there for him during the worst of times, who tolerated his moods and whining and outbursts and abuse with patience and understanding and, apparently, love.</p><p> </p><p>Forte, who was different from the other servants in that he accepted Adam for who he was, who could relate to him and share in his darkness without chastising or shaming it.</p><p> </p><p>Forte, who had spent years pining after Adam and yet had accepted a platonic relationship despite how he agonized to be with him in other ways. Who had put up with being taken for granted, insulted, minimized...all for the sake of his devotion.</p><p> </p><p>It was true, Forte really <em>was</em> closer to him than any other person had ever been in his life. They were the deepest of companions, and it would have been difficult to not allow that to bleed into unknown territory.</p><p> </p><p>Besides, aside from their bond, Forte himself was…..interesting. He had an unusual look even when he was human, but that almost made him even more attractive, how his features stood out sharply even behind heavy makeup.</p><p> </p><p>He had a sort of morbid, haunted beauty. It was an acquired taste, the same sort of dark appeal that his wickedly intelligent, insightful and perceptive mind had.</p><p> </p><p>He was also insanely talented and determined to go after what he wanted. Adam couldn’t help but find that inspiring and attractive, a person who had <em>that </em>much passion for their craft and pursued it single-mindedly with the utmost ambition...just like he had pursued Adam in secret...</p><p> </p><p>Which didn’t offend Adam when he thought about it now. Being the object of such desire was certainly flattering, and it made him feel wanted and worthy for the first time in his life, for a man of such class and discriminating taste to desire him.</p><p> </p><p>His personality wasn’t forgettable either. He wasn’t truly as gloomy and boring as Adam had thought him before they got to know each-other. He had far more to him than first met the eye, the kind of mystery that was exciting for a man like Adam who liked to keep things new and challenging.</p><p> </p><p>Of course Forte had that bland and cynical outward demeanor that was a bit too mature, but under that he was also charismatic, creative, confident, driven, charming...even <em>enticing</em> with how soothing and suggestive he could be.</p><p> </p><p>He was the only one who was persuasive and alluring enough to calm Adam down with his soft words and pretty melodies, make him feel safe and welcome when everything else around him was wrong. To <em>seduce</em> him, even if not necessarily in an openly sexual way.</p><p> </p><p>Who else could manage such a thing? Who else could boast that much influence over Adam? Who else knew <em>everything</em> about Adam, more than Adam even knew about himself apparently, as the letter displayed?….No one but Forte. Forte alone.</p><p> </p><p>Adam realized now that life without Forte just wouldn’t be the same. A huge piece of his heart would be missing if he lost his best friend. Forte was all he had, and even if he got everything else back from the curse it still wouldn’t be complete without the composer there by his side.</p><p> </p><p>Forte was…..<em>special</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Beast’s eyes snap open.<em> “</em>I...I think I get it now,” he says slowly to Lumiere. “You were right. There’s more to it, underneath that... fear. There’s a feeling there. A good one. I don’t know what it means or if it’s true love, but... I think I’m ready to find out.”</p><p> </p><p>Adam had always been fearless and bold in just about every other aspect of his life, and this had been the first time he had hesitated to take a challenge head on. It seemed that love was the one area that he was actually <em>shy</em> in.</p><p> </p><p>If the whole outcome of the curse hadn’t depended on it he might have ran from it entirely, but with Lumiere’s help he was ready to hoist himself up and try to employ the sort of courage he had in other matters into this one. If he wasn’t confident in himself, then he needed to fake it.</p><p> </p><p>He pops up quickly from his chair and starts to walk off, but then pauses and stops to turn around. “….What should I say?” His anger had melted away entirely and now he seemed genuinely curious to hear what Lumiere would advise, without the obfuscation of ego or the transparent pretense of this being hypothetical.</p><p> </p><p>“Just <em>go</em> to her, Master,” Lumiere wears a cheesy grin, leaping down off the table and hopping over to Beast. He seems very pleased with himself. “Remember zat she eez probably just as nervous as you are, so be kind, be gentle and most of all, be <em>patient! </em>Zen, when ze moment eez right, you look her in ze eyes and tell her how you feel!”</p><p> </p><p>Beast thinks about this for a moment and then gives his servant a genuine smile for the first time in….well, ever. It’s small and fleeting, but it still happened. “Yes... you’re right. I….I think I can do that. I’d like to be alone now so I can sort things out.”</p><p> </p><p>“But of course, your highness!” Lumiere enthuses with a big smile, hopping his way over to the open bedroom doors with little clanking noises of his metal frame on the stone floors. “It eez always a <em>pleasure</em> to be of service!”</p><p> </p><p>Watching him go, Beast forces himself to show gratitude outwardly. If Lumiere had helped him figure this out, then it was worth it to try. Just this once. “Lumiere? I….appreciate it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh-ho-ho~ Be sure to tell me how it <em>turns out</em>, if you know what I mean, Master,” he says with a wink, looking absolutely beside himself with glee. He then signs off with a wave of his candled-arm, hopping off ecstatically down the corridors to immediately go rub it in Cogsworth’s face that <em>he</em> had helped the Prince and possibly ended the curse.</p><p> </p><p>Beast watches him go and shuts the doors behind him. For the first time in his life, he feels a lack of bravery and readiness to face what’s coming as he walks calmly back over to the set of doors to the room where Forte resided, a look of manufactured resolution on his beastly face despite this.</p><p> </p><p>Placing the papers carefully back into the chest, including the blank music sheet ones, he gently closes the lid and moves the table away from the doors to allow them to open. Thankfully the doors were sound-proof, so Forte wouldn’t have heard any of that conversation.</p><p> </p><p>He waits a few moments out of respect, almost expecting the doors to start rattling again and burst open as soon as the obstacle was removed... but they don’t. Everything inside is eerily still and quiet. He was going to have to enter.</p><p> </p><p>Sighing heavily in acceptance, Adam sucks up his trepidation and toxic pride and opens up the door, carrying the chest under his arm as he walks up the long aisle of the green-tinged, dimly lit chamber. “Forte?” he mumbles gently, testing the waters.</p><p> </p><p>Forte is still there, of course, but he is not playing his keyboard and he is staring firmly away from Adam at the floor out of the corner of his empty eye sockets with a grimace, stubbornly refusing to make eye contact or acknowledge his master’s presence. He looks inanimate in his stillness.</p><p> </p><p>Forte must still be mad, Beast guesses. The thought is a bit irritating to think about, the audacity of such a thing from a servant to have an attitude like that!</p><p> </p><p>But...no. Adam forces that old instinct of indignation down. Forte has every <em>right</em> to be upset with him, he reminds himself, going over Lumiere’s words in his mind to help him stay on track... he would have been lost without those words.</p><p> </p><p>“I... brought your stuff back,” Beast mutters quietly, holding said chest up so Forte could see it and then gingerly placing it back down where it was before, at the base of Forte’s keyboard. It ends up being crooked, but he had tried his best.</p><p> </p><p>“The lock….. broke. But I can get someone to fix it for you if you want,” he suggests as some sort of peace offering, hoping to see if Forte acknowledges what was inside of it, if he even recalled. It doesn’t seem to work.</p><p> </p><p>Forte still won’t speak a word and merely glowers in upset. And probably pain, Beast realizes.</p><p> </p><p>How often was that expression, that Adam saw as disdain, actually meant to disguise his sadness like a mask? It seems Beast will have to pry it out of him….<em> somehow</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Well, he already knew Forte didn’t respond to accusations and anger, so it was time Adam had to try another method of getting what he wanted, the one Lumiere had counseled him to use. A method he wasn’t particularly fine-tuned at: persuasion.</p><p> </p><p>But where to even start? Ah, yes…. “I made a mistake, Forte,” Beast grumbles for what surely must be the first time in his life. “I... didn’t mean to yell. I was on edge, and I took it out on you.</p><p> </p><p>...But you’re my friend, and I should have been more patient. I should have just been... <em>open</em>... with you, instead of getting defensive,” Beast tries a bit harder, forcing himself to be vulnerable in the hopes it would win him some forgiveness points.</p><p> </p><p>For once, he wishes Mrs. Potts was here to tell him exactly how to act nice. He’s not accustomed to seeking forgiveness from <em>anyone</em>, so it puts him in an awkward position. And being awkward always made him irritated as a defense mechanism.</p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, with no response from Forte to even <em>that</em>, being ignored and patronized like this started to trigger his pesky agitation a bit again. He was trying his best, so why couldn’t Forte just accept that?</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Really</em>, Forte? You’re not even going to say anything?” the Beast demanded, trying not to raise his voice too much while pointing an accusing and furry finger up at his friend.</p><p> </p><p>Nope. Forte wasn’t going to say anything. The stubborn silence and the deepening scowl he wore in response to being forcefully goaded just proved that.</p><p> </p><p>“Ok, now you’re just being <em>difficult</em>,” Adam accused bitterly. Hilariously hypocritical, all things considered, but the irony was lost on him as always.</p><p> </p><p>Forte’s face twitches at that and he looks even more upset and offended.</p><p> </p><p>Adam curses at himself internally. How was he so bad at this? So bad at being a decent <em>person</em>? So bad at reading and dealing with emotions? He could rip out his own hair...er, fur...in frustration!</p><p> </p><p>“No... no you’re not. I wish I was better at this sort of thing. I wish I could tell you what you wa--what you <em>deserve </em>to hear from me. But you know how I am... I’m<em> not</em> perfect like you said. I have….problems, and that's not your fault. Don’t take it personally.”</p><p> </p><p>Forte’s reaction is still silence, but this time it seems tentative. Perhaps a bit more sad rather than enraged.</p><p> </p><p>Beast latches on to this opportunity. “It’s alright. You... don’t have to speak if you don’t want. I...I actually just came back here to tell you something, then I’ll leave you alone if you want.</p><p> </p><p>...I know you’re still listening, so you can respond if you want, and if not, I... guess that’s fine too. You can just think about it,” he says, fumbling with his furry hands awkwardly in front of him as he tries to echo the sort of requests Forte had suggested in his letter in regards to paying heed to touchy subjects before responding right away.</p><p> </p><p>But he wasn’t going to directly mention the letter just yet. He still needed to gauge the situation a bit more first. This had to be handled with care, and Adam, possibly the most careless person alive, tried not to let that fact terrify him.</p><p> </p><p>He just had to think of it like trying to catch a bird. You had to sprinkle little seeds, and wait for it to come to you. “I was thinking and... I finally realized something out there. About you. About everything.”</p><p> </p><p>Forte is still mad and had intended to continue to ignore Adam, but now, at this abnormally cryptic statement from such a blunt man, his curiosity was undeniably piqued….and he was <em>always</em> interested to hear about himself, of course.</p><p> </p><p>His brow quirks as he hesitantly peers down at Adam. The Prince looked so sincere. It’s what Forte had been dreading, why he had tried not to look at him. He was so captivating that it was impossible to stay angry! Damn it, now he couldn’t help but ask.</p><p> </p><p>“Realized <em>what</em>, Master?” he drawled in a dismissive and skeptical tone. He wasn’t <em>entirely</em> ready to get over the tiff just yet, after all. His feelings were more complicated and long-lasting than that. It would take something <em>big</em> to sway them from severity.</p><p> </p><p>“Why you got so upset when I tried to leave,” Beast says cautiously, offering another little seed and waiting for Forte to be the one to bridge the gap. He couldn’t help but feel more optimistic now that Forte had taken the bait and finally spoke.</p><p> </p><p>Forte scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I <em>told</em> you, Master, it was a dangerous idea. I didn’t want you to get hurt, which you assuredly <em>would</em> have were you to run off into the Black Forest to fight a sorceress in the dead of winter’s night. That is all.”</p><p> </p><p>Adam didn’t doubt that to be the truth on some level, but it wasn’t all of it. He knew better than to believe these excuses now. He now knew how convincing Forte could be when he didn’t want to be found out and exposed.</p><p> </p><p>All this time, Forte had gained the upper hand by withholding this critical information, that he loved him, but now that Adam was no longer ignorant to that, he had the advantage. And he intended to use it for good purpose this time.</p><p> </p><p>“No... that’s not all. It’s <em>more</em> than that,” Beast insists, slowly approaching closer to the organ as he keeps a close on eye his expression. That large metal face looked slightly worried now. Forte’s defenses were slowly crumbling, his ‘mask’ slipping outwardly. That meant it was time to say it. “You don’t <em>want</em> the curse to be broken, do you?”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>What?!</em>” Forte gasps and scrunches up his face in faux indignation and confusion as he leans back from Adam. “That’s utterly <em>ridiculous</em>, Master! Absolutely <em>preposterous</em>! What could possess you to even <em>s</em><em>uggest</em> such a thing? You truly think so<em> little</em> of me? Must you repeatedly add insult to injury??”</p><p> </p><p>He was obviously trying to turn the accusations back onto Adam, but Adam isn’t going to fall for this guilt trap. Not this time. He won’t be so easily manipulated, and he won’t give in to the tempting allure of purposeful denial. He ignores Forte’s insinuations and keeps pushing down this line of questioning.</p><p> </p><p>It was <em>his</em> turn to open up his arsenal, to turn the tables and reflect that guilt right back on Forte. It was the only way to get a true reaction from the composer: to back him into a corner. An even smaller corner than the one he was currently chained to.</p><p> </p><p>“I know you <em>can’t</em> be happy like this, Forte, so why don’t you want to be human again? Why don’t you want <em>me</em> to be human again?... You said you didn’t want to see me hurt, but if you were my friend you wouldn’t want to watch me suffering like this, knowing it could be stopped.”</p><p> </p><p>Adam already knows the answer, but it was important to hear what Forte had to say about it from his own mouth. To see if he would keep lying and bluffing and hiding. To test him. If Forte wasn’t willing to meet him halfway, there was nothing Beast could do.</p><p> </p><p>Furrowing his brows in frustration, Forte actually appears genuinely hurt. Beast felt guilty on some level for causing this hurt, but it was a necessary agony.</p><p> </p><p>Forte doesn’t seem to try to deny any longer. “But don’t you <em>see</em>, Master? As long as I am here with you there is no <em>need</em> to suffer, for I alone can provide you comfort in these troubled times. I am finally your dearest friend,” he nearly whispers, closing his eyes as his face droops sadly, “and what would we do without that?”</p><p> </p><p>Those words and the way they were said nearly crippled Adam with shame and pity. Knowing how Forte felt about him all along, knowing his true motives were nothing nefarious but rather born out of love and desperation, the Beast cannot truly be mad at Forte for deceiving him.</p><p> </p><p>He lets up a bit in his previously tense demeanor, slowly approaching Forte’s metallic body until he is within arms reach, gingerly reaching out to place a hand on one of Forte’s pipes with a soft steadiness he didn’t know he possessed before. A <em>comfort. </em>The pipe shivers under his touch.</p><p> </p><p>He knew this was a turning point for good or ill, and he had to choose his next words thoughtfully. "There doesn’t<em> have</em> to be a ‘without’... Things don't have to change between us, Forte,” he assures as his thick fingers begin to stroke the pipe so delicately that they don’t make a sound.</p><p> </p><p>“You've given me years of close, deep friendship...just because I turn human again doesn't mean I'll suddenly forget all of that. Now, I...I know I’ve treated you...not good. But life has changed since then for both of us. You’re so <em>important</em> to me now.</p><p> </p><p>Everything is different...our relationship could never go back to the way it was before the curse. We've been through so<em> much</em> together and we know each other so well that no matter what... you’ll still always be my best friend. If anything, we….we could become closer as humans than we ever could like this.</p><p> </p><p>I mean <em>look</em> at us, Forte... I can’t pick anything up without breaking it, and you can't even move from this wall. But... if we were human again you wouldn't have to stay here in this room when I leave... you could come <em>with</em> me.</p><p> </p><p>We could do everything together... share food, play music, explore the grounds, stay up late and get drunk...make fun of Cogsworth when he does something stupid. I'd like to finally have a companion to share all that with... Wouldn't <em>you </em>like that?"</p><p> </p><p>Well, there it was. That was about as convincing as he could make it for the time being, and it seemed to work a charm if Forte’s shocked, quivering face was anything to go by.</p><p> </p><p>“What...what are you <em>saying</em>, Master?” the Maestro croaks out in disbelief, nearly speechless and surely fearful. It was almost everything he had wanted to hear from Adam, and yet...he couldn’t process it. Couldn’t accept it as possible.</p><p> </p><p>Letting those words into his heart and then having his hopes dashed brutally if Adam were just playing some cruel joke out of revenge would just about decimate his entire soul on the spot. He had a hard time trusting him, all things considered.</p><p> </p><p>"What I'm asking is...<em>would</em> you want to be human again, if I promised things could stay the same between us as they are now... or better?" Beast elaborates patiently, pure sincerity on his features and hopeful interest shining out in his eyes from under his heavy brow.</p><p> </p><p>Now that his armor is being lowered down against his control, Forte struggles to come up with a coherent sentence for the first time in his life as a distinguished and articulate speaker. It’s as though his whole world is turning upside down, and he scarcely knows what to make of it.</p><p> </p><p>"Well I--I don't know,” he answers truthfully. “You must understand, Master. I...I didn't even think it was possible. I didn't think you would <em>want</em> that… That you would want me around if you didn’t need me... If you had other options.</p><p> </p><p>I always thought it was one or the other. You, or being human…. and nothing is worth being useless to you, Master...being invisible to you like before. No, nothing is worth <em>losing</em> you,” he admits before he can stop himself, looking absolutely horrified with embarrassment and self-loathing.</p><p> </p><p>Beast nods in understanding, appearing very sagely and unlike himself at that moment. "You don't have to lose anything, Forte. I would still need you in my life just as much regardless of the curse being lifted...I’d just prefer to have both.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not that I don't appreciate everything you've done for me. I <em>am</em> grateful, even if I don’t seem like it. And maybe I should have….no, I <em>know</em> I should have done a better job to show that more...But I just don't see a reason why things <em>should</em> stay like this when we could have everything we have now and more as humans.</p><p> </p><p>You may be able to comfort me in a lot of ways like this, but... there are still some things you can’t fix. Like the physical pain and discomfort for me in having this form, and the inconvenience it causes with everyday basic living.</p><p> </p><p>My unnatural size and strength is a handicap, and every day my mutation takes more and more of a toll on my body and mind... I’ve tolerated a lot of pain, you know, but eventually even I have a limit.</p><p> </p><p>When I complain, it isn’t just me being whiny about how I look... it’s physical too. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to seem weak, but... even now, I’m in unimaginable pain every time I move. And just as I get used to it, it gets worse.</p><p> </p><p>It’s part of my curse... I can never be comfortable in my own body like this... And now that you know, you can’t tell me that you still care for me... that you don’t want to see me <em>suffer</em>, and then refuse me my relief."</p><p> </p><p>The composer looks so conflicted, as though he could feel that bodily pain himself, as though he were taking Adam’s turmoil upon himself and actually empathizing. He <em>really</em> doesn’t want the man he loves to feel such things, especially because of him, but….</p><p> </p><p>"But if the curse <em>were</em> to be broken, your highness, that means you will have to fall in love first. Aside from the question of who your lover could possibly be, where you would find them and how you would woo someone in so short a time, <em>surely</em> having such a relationship would affect ours.</p><p> </p><p>How <em>could</em> things be the same between us, how <em>could</em> we spend so much time together if you instead have to spend it with a beau? Would I then have to <em>share</em> your time, wait upon the convenience of a <em>stranger</em> in order to see you?!"</p><p> </p><p>This thought seems to snap Forte back into a defensive state as his tone raises and his face contorts in pure jealousy. “I’m done playing second fiddle to lesser people, Master! I won’t do it again! I <em>can’t</em>, not even for you! It is regrettable that you’re in pain, but I still need you for myself!”</p><p> </p><p>Beast sighs in discouragement at this regression. He had to calm Forte back down and fast, or else he would be unreachable behind his walls. "None of that is really happening, Forte,” he clarifies, resuming his strokes of Forte’s pipes with the pads of his fingers. “You’re not second, and you never will be.”</p><p> </p><p>It seems to do the trick and Beast feels another slight shiver run through the pipe organ in response to his touch. “I <em>know</em> that you're the only one that understands... That you’re the only one who cares... And I care about you too. That's why I'm here, asking for your approval. Because of your…uh…. <em>f</em><em>eeling</em><em>s. </em>They matter to me."</p><p> </p><p>"You...truly care, Master?" But Beast is right. If his master <em>didn't</em> care, he wouldn’t be here right now having this unpleasant conversation when he by all means didn’t technically <em>have </em>to ask permission... from his perspective at least. It was a very un-Adam-like thing to do.</p><p> </p><p>...Unless he was trying to manipulate Forte, lying and guilting him into getting his own way because he was desperate enough to do <em>anything</em> to have the spell broken, even to try to diminish Forte’s own will by using his weaknesses against him.</p><p> </p><p>But on further consideration he had never known Adam, Beast or not, to be cunning enough for that. That was much more in Forte’s <em>own</em> wheelhouse... And looking into those sincere blue eyes again makes him feel dangerously lulled into ease.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Forte…. I care, alright? And I...I wish that it didn’t take me so long to realize it,” Adam admits, caressing his servant’s pipes a little more intently as though to express how much he meant it in ways that his awkward manner of speech could not.</p><p> </p><p>The thought that Adam could care for him like that, so selflessly? Enough to put his own well-being and happiness on the line? That didn’t sound like the Adam that Forte knew either. Was he any more capable of genuine kindness than he was clever deceit? They seemed almost equally unlikely...</p><p> </p><p>And what had sparked this change of heart? Surely it couldn’t have been a random epiphany like Adam claimed, that was too out of left field. There was <em>more</em> to it, and it was making Forte too suspicious to let go completely. He needed to investigate further.</p><p> </p><p>He clears his throat, trying to pull himself together a bit and not allow himself to be lured in by potentially false promises and empty flattery. “Yes, well, be that as it may….you never satisfactorily addressed my concern, Master. For the spell to be broken, you would need to fall in <em>love</em> first.</p><p> </p><p>And assuming you found a suitable wife within the remaining time-frame, falling in love means leaving <em>me</em> on the sidelines. It would be inevitable, and I won’t stand for it if I can help it,” he says with a bold stubbornness not befitting of a servant. “I’m truly sorry for your circumstance, but there is no way I can ever approve of <em>that</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>It was time, Adam realized. The route this conversation took left him no other choice. He had to play his full hand. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he takes the final plunge. “I, uh….saw the poems from the chest, Forte,” he informs as he abruptly ceases petting Forte’s pipes, preparing to add the kicker. “...And the letter.”</p><p> </p><p>…...The <em>poems</em>! Forte had forgotten all about them! And oh god, that <em>letter</em>?! He had no idea those were in the chest! How had they gotten there?!...And then he remembers: he had shoved them into his pocket before he was going to….when he was about to….on the night that the curse began.</p><p> </p><p>He <em>had </em>intended for Adam to find them, yes, but never like this! Instead, on his corpse after he would no longer be alive to endure such humiliation and judgment. When they would take on different meaning, making Adam feel guilty for the way he treated Forte that resulted in his death.</p><p> </p><p>But now….somehow, the pages must have….well, they must have transferred to the chest while he was transforming into his organ form. Had the Enchantress known? Done it on purpose, like she had with the chain? Was it part of her plan to mess up their lives?</p><p> </p><p>Or was it an unfortunate coincidence, a cruel karma that was now coming back to bite him? He felt raw and wounded from this metaphorical bite, like blood was dripping from his throat, bleeding weakness all over the floor for Adam to see.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <b>                                          As soon as your heart rules your head</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                   Your life is not your own</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                          It's hell when someone's always there</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                     It's bliss to be alone</b> </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Adam tries to stare straight ahead and not to make eye contact, but it’s hard not to glance up to witness Forte’s reaction. Adam never did have much self-control, but somehow he manages to get away with little more than a quick peek.</p><p> </p><p>It doesn’t alleviate his tension, seeing Forte with the widest, most frightened eyes imaginable and a mouth that was gaping open, completely speechless like he was either on the cusp of great fury or tears.</p><p> </p><p>Little sputtering noises are all that comes from Forte’s pipes, little broken attempts to explain and justify himself such as ‘I--’ and ‘you--’ and ‘but--’.</p><p> </p><p>It is then that Adam realizes he will need to fill in the blanks for Forte...to reassure him that he is not upset...to ease his qualms like Forte had eased <em>his</em> so many times.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t an easy thing to face or own up to, after all. Adam would have been extremely horrified if the situation had been reversed...if anyone had ever found a bunch of sappy crap <em>he</em> had written years ago, especially if said person reading it was also the stated object of such sentiments.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s... okay, Forte,” Adam soothes, eyes sad as he tries to come to terms with just how much anguish and fear he has caused this man who has done nothing but be there for him. Is this what having a conscience felt like? If so, it sucked.</p><p> </p><p>Or…. was it more than that? Was it also <em>love</em>? Did he, in fact, love Forte too? In that very same way Forte loved him? Would he feel that spark in the moment? One thing he knew for sure is that he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t pursue this question all the way to its conclusion.</p><p> </p><p>“I'm not upset...at all!” he adds awkwardly as he holds up his hands, raising his line of sight back up to the organ’s agonized face. Exhaling loudly as he plops to a seat at the bench stand in front of Forte’s keyboards which creaks under his weight, Beast continues with a grumble.</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, I found it...flattering. I really had no idea...” If only he was better at expressing his emotions, maybe then he could impart the full magnitude of the truth upon the composer. The real depth of his feelings, like Lumiere had told him to. God, he was just as hopelessly repressed as Forte, wasn’t he?</p><p> </p><p>This receives no response as Forte is still too blindsided and ashamed to speak properly, so Adam keeps going, getting to the question he <em>really</em> wanted to ask this entire time. The pressing matter at hand. “I need to know...do you...do you still feel that way? You know...like what you wrote in the letter?”</p><p> </p><p>What could Forte even<em> say</em> to that? To think that, after all this time, Adam had read his letter and knew of his obsessive love and was confronting him on it and that now, at this very moment, he was awaiting a clear and concise response?</p><p> </p><p>The panic is almost too much to bear! He wants to scream: of<em> course</em> he still felt that way! There was no hope of it ever stopping and Forte had been absurdly foolish to pretend otherwise to himself, to try to put the longing for something more than friendship out of his mind.</p><p> </p><p>Years of repression and shoving it down...and all it took was one second of those big beautiful eyes wobbling at him to undo all of that supposed progress. Oh, he really <em>is</em> doomed, isn’t he? He really has nothing left to lose at this point, he realizes, letting out a groan of discomfort.</p><p> </p><p>He only had two choices. He could state some obvious lie and anger Adam, or he could tell the truth and push Adam away by making him too uncomfortable to be his friend anymore. Either way he was about to lose Adam.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m afraid so, Master,” he confirms meekly, head hung low in shame and still unable to even meet Beast’s eyes. “I regret to inform you that your dear old friend, even after all this time, has been too weak to get over such nonsense.</p><p> </p><p>That, to this day, still do I suffer from this infection, this pathetic, disgusting, dangerous, <em>lowly</em> unrequited sentiment that clings to me, plagues my subconscious every waking moment and grants me no peace nor reprieve from its sadistic clutches.</p><p> </p><p>And for that, I am deeply, truly, <em>eternally</em> sorry. Bask me in shame and punishment if you must, but believe me when I say that <em>nothing</em> could hurt me more at this point than the betrayal of my own heart already has. Oh, I have sunken so low that it truly must be <em>my</em> punishment, for I have sinned gravely against you, Master…”</p><p> </p><p>Voice getting more and more weak and wavering until it is nearly a whimper, Forte looks on the verge of tears, if his organ form were actually capable of producing any. It is truly the saddest, most sympathy-inducing sight Adam has ever seen.</p><p> </p><p>“No,” the Prince counters gently, standing up on the bench to be able to get closer to his companion’s heart-wrenching face. Forte is still way too towering for Adam to be at face-level with him, but he is able to reach down and stroke his keyboard affectionately.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not pathetic or sinful at all,” he soothes in his deep Beast-voice, feeling very out of his element but determined to continue nonetheless, as though a force stronger than himself was speaking through him and putting words to what was in his heavy heart.</p><p> </p><p>“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” the Beast explains, eyes flickering away for a moment as he gathers up the courage to finish his thought. “I didn’t mean to upset you by bringing it up, I only asked because….” A pause. “Reading everything you wrote... thinking about you, about <em>us</em>, it made me realize...I, uh... I think it sounded...it sounded kind of...good.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wh-...<em>what</em>?” Forte whispers, not sure he’s hearing this right and too emotionally broken to even believe his own ears or form a full thought at the moment...and oh, the way Adam was touching those keys, the most sensitive part of his new body! It was a pleasure almost too intense for one man to bear.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe you were right about me in the past...maybe it<em> was</em> hopeless back then, but...I’ve grown really close to you after all this time. The curse...I think the one good thing it managed to do was bringing us closer together.</p><p> </p><p>You’re a really special person and... I don’t think I ever would have had the chance to see that...to have you in my life like this otherwise. I’m...<em>grateful</em> for that,” he forces the word out. “Maybe it’s that one thing you said I could find to appreciate?”</p><p> </p><p>…..“You...you <em>are</em>, Master?” Forte raises his brows and leans in closer, seeming to drop all caution as he hangs on every word, lack of pretense making him seem almost...innocent. Willingly vulnerable. “Grateful for <em>me</em>?” His lips parted in interest, trembling slightly as he tried not to moan.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well...I know this is a lot to take in and I don’t expect you to have an answer right away, but…. I brought up the curse earlier for a reason and I still have to ask,” the Beast prodded, keeping his touch on Forte’s keys soft and light.</p><p> </p><p>It was important he keep following Lumiere’s advice to exercise as much patience as he could and not be demanding like he always was before. Matters such as these really <em>couldn’t</em> be forced or rushed, not even under the will of a spoiled Prince. He had learned that the hard way.</p><p> </p><p>“So...I’ll ask again, but differently this time...now that you know that <em>I</em> know. Um...” he mumbles nervously, hating feeling so silly like this and putting his heart out there. Especially now that he’s feeling his attraction to Forte developing…</p><p> </p><p>But it was only fair and this was the chance he had been waiting for to end the curse, the chance he had spent the past few years begging the heavens for. It was definitely worth more than a shot. “Would you...would you want to be human again…. if it meant we could be <em>together</em>? If <em>you</em> were the one?”</p><p> </p><p>“…….?!” Was this really happening? Was Adam really saying what it <em>sound</em><em>ed</em> like he was saying? Surely it couldn’t be true. Such blessings were not made for Forte, nor were they known to occur in this bleak existence. Had the...had the enchantment, his deal with the forest spirit, really worked after all? Could he be so lucky?</p><p> </p><p>If so, that was a <em>much</em> preferable prospect to staying as an organ which, while enjoyable aside from the chains, could in no way compare to having Adam as his lover, to being able to share human lives and touch with each-other.</p><p> </p><p>To being close to him physically at all times, able to hold him, able to kiss him, able to keep a better eye on him without having to resort to using that idiot Fife as a spy...and of <em>course</em> not being stuck bolted to this godforsaken wall! The best of all worlds.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Yes!</em>” Forte gasps, feeling the weight of the entire world lift off of his shoulders when he finally acknowledges the truth. That it wasn’t the experience of humanity he had hated, it was the experience of a humanity without <em>Adam</em>. “I want that so badly, Master, that I can hardly find the words.”</p><p> </p><p>His entire metal body feels looser somehow, less stiff despite being comprised of hard material and rigid structure. Like he could really, for the first time, feel the air flow through his hollow pipes, pumping vigorously like the blood of life, his body throbbing against Adam’s touch on his keys that seems almost sensual.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. I mean, good...” Beast is acting on pure instinct now as that confirmed the truth in his heart that he was now certain of. He had no doubts as to his own feelings anymore. It all felt right.</p><p> </p><p>Caught up in the moment, Beast calls upon his past experience climbing up just about everything he could find in his youth and he begins to grip on the pipes to climb up Forte’s giant body, being careful not to injure him on the way.</p><p> </p><p>Below him, Forte’s keys begin to play ever so softly on their own and the magical music note illusions that result from this melody give Beast a little boost as though urging him on further, <em>higher</em>, until he is directly in front of Forte’s face, standing in what seems like mid-air.</p><p> </p><p>Forte flinches as Adam reaches forward to place a small, in comparison, hand on the Maestro’s face, and it sends what feel like shocks of lightning current throughout his organ body, ones of pleasure and stimulation rather than pain.</p><p> </p><p>He lets out a little groan of desire, looking directly into his Prince’s face with unparalleled longing and affection. This moment, this physical connection between them, was like some sort of beautiful, beautiful dream, and yet it felt as real to the touch as the stone floor beneath him.</p><p> </p><p>He felt unsteady in his foundations and for a moment worries he might fall and crush them both as Beast began to stroke his cheek and uttered the words Forte had longed to hear for years, the<em> only </em>words that would set him free: “I <em>love </em>you, Forte.”</p><p> </p><p>“Muh?” Forte lets out what sounds like a cross between a whimper and a little moan as he leans against that warm touch. This was it. There was no going back. This was the point of no return, and Forte couldn’t do anything but allow what was going to happen to happen.</p><p> </p><p>It was like he was dissociating and watching the moment from outside of his own body, a witness to fate rather than an active participant. He couldn’t have stopped what came next even if he wanted to, which he no longer did. Not even a little.</p><p> </p><p>“I—I love you <em>too</em>, my lord,” he gasps breathlessly. And he meant it more than he had ever meant anything in his life, more than he could imagine <em>anyone</em> meaning <em>anything</em>. “I’ve desired you more than you could ever know. More than my letter could even begin to describe.”</p><p> </p><p>It feels too good to be true. Forte tenses up and flinches, preparing for something bad to happen, for it to backfire somehow. For a few seconds, everything is quiet and calm. It feels like an eternity passes, a moment of endless fright frozen in time, and Forte begins to wonder if anything will happen at all.</p><p> </p><p>His heart wrenches as he considers the thought that maybe Adam doesn’t love him enough to be able to break the spell...that perhaps he just wanted to <em>force</em> himself to love Forte, to convince himself that he did out of desperation so he could be human again...</p><p> </p><p>But just as he is about to lose all hope and pull himself from the wall in grief, something happens to relieve his misery. The thick silence breaks. All of a sudden a powerful wind blasts through the room, bursting open the doors as it howls past.</p><p> </p><p>It is not any sort of natural wind but appears entirely supernatural and it carries with it bolts of green light, similar in color to the ones that he created when he played his music: the magic imbued upon him through the enchantment. They seem to be emanating from the enchanted rose in Adam’s bedroom, which is now glowing a bright green in it’s jar.</p><p> </p><p>The Beast smiles when he sees what is coming, for the first time looking more truly content than he ever has. For the first time he looked at peace inside himself as the bright lights enveloped his body, pulling him away from Forte and lowering him toward the ground.</p><p> </p><p>His body began emitting blinding beams of light like the sun’s shining rays, shooting from his fingertips and then his chest, and finally his face. Try as he might, Forte cannot see exactly what is happening to Adam inside this cocoon of sparks, smoke and light.</p><p> </p><p>He can only watch on in awe and concern as Adam lowers down to the ground and the same lights now begin to envelope Forte himself. When they do, he feels a sensation he has not felt for a few years now, since the night the curse began.</p><p> </p><p>His body begins to morph and shrink, but it is not unpleasant and painful like it was the first time. This time it is akin to a state of pure bliss, like the blessed essence of life itself is filling him to the brim with the power of love and all the sorts of feelings that he had once scoffed at.</p><p> </p><p>Feeling himself lowering down to the ground, he lets out a long groan as he feels the energy shift inside him. It only begins to depart when his feet touch the floor and as the sparks and light fade away his first instinct is to run toward Adam, who he can just begin to make out as the rubble disappears and the wind dies down.</p><p> </p><p>When the composer takes his first step toward the Prince he finds he is no longer used to walking and his legs start to give out under him, but he stumbles forward, placing a hand on the stone floor to push himself on his way.</p><p> </p><p>There is a glowing green cloud of smoke still billowing around them and Forte coughs slightly and waves away the dust, stopping just in front of Adam who is kneeling on the floor...in his human form!</p><p> </p><p>Forte gazes at him in both hesitation and longing. Oh, this is his Adam, indeed! Just as beautiful as ever, a proper young man again! Forte never realized how much he <em>wanted</em> this, for them both to be human again, until now when he is too starstruck to act upon it.</p><p> </p><p>“Master,” he manages, his hand trembling as it reaches out, wanting to touch Adam so desperately but afraid to try lest his Prince disappear like a mirage upon contact. “Are you alright?” he asks worriedly, watching as Adam looks down to inspect himself in disbelief.</p><p> </p><p>“Forte!” Adam exclaims with a wide grin as the musician catches his attention, bypassing Forte’s attempt at a cautious touch and instead scrambling forward on the floor to wrap his arms around his composer in a tight hug, the tightest known to man. “You did it! You broke the spell!”</p><p> </p><p>‘Umf!” Forte exclaims at being grabbed so forcefully, brow raised in surprise as he adjusts back into the moment and tries not to straight up ascend to heaven out of the pleasure of finally being touched and held by his beloved. He doesn’t even mind that his ribs are practically cracking under that grip!</p><p> </p><p>Remembering where he is and forcing himself back into reality, he forces himself to breathe and slowly wraps his own arms around Adam’s torso in return, laying his palms flat against Adam’s back so he can rub and pat it in comfort.</p><p> </p><p>A quivering smile of fondness and happiness grows on his normally weary face for the first time in his life as he rests his cheek against Adam’s shoulder, not able to help it as long overdue silent tears stream from his eyes against his will.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Master....<em>w</em><em>e</em> did it,” he whispers intimately, a flush of color spreading across his pale cheeks as heat fills his body once again. Though this time it is not the heat of life, but the heat of a profound arousal pulsing through every fiber of his being.</p><p> </p><p>Not just arousal at the wonderful physical contact and the fact that Adam loved him enough for it to fulfill the prophecy, but also from knowing that this young Prince was now <em>his</em> and <em>his alone</em>. He could just about swoon over if he weren’t currently on his knees.</p><p> </p><p>Adam laughs exuberantly, his own eyes squinting and getting wet as he pulls back from the hug a bit and looks into Forte’s face, for the moment allowing himself to express the utmost of gratitude and affection.</p><p> </p><p>It nearly melts Forte’s heart right then and there. Wiping his own cheek with the back of his keyboard-patterned sleeve, he sniffs the blooming tears back and then lets out a little chuckle, reaching up to cradle his hand around the side of Adam’s beautiful face and stroke it soothingly.</p><p> </p><p>Adam instinctively tilts his head sideways to lean into the touch and Forte takes this as permission to keep going, to explore further as he experimentally runs said hand through Adam’s soft, brown locks of hair and feels it slide through his fingers like silk. He’s always dreamed of doing this.</p><p> </p><p>“Mhh, that feels so good, Forte,” Adam encourages softly in his gentler human voice, eyes closing in pleasure. “Keep doing that. I haven’t felt anything but pain in so long, your hands….seem unreal,” he says in what he intends as a demand but ends up sounding more like a request, looking legitimately peaceful.</p><p> </p><p>And Forte would never dream of depriving his master of that, nor <em>himself </em>for that matter. He had fantasized so long of touching Adam, of stroking and rubbing every ounce of him, that he didn’t think he could stop now even if he wanted to.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, Master. I am right here with you, and if it pleases you I shall never leave.” Though truthfully even if it <em>didn’t</em> please Adam, Forte still wouldn’t be willing to leave. It was far too late for that. Adam was stuck with him now.</p><p> </p><p>If only the Prince had known what he was asking for, allowing a man like Forte to love him. He would be consumed entirely, for Forte’s love was nothing to be taken lightly. It was potent and irreversible and now that Forte had fully sank his claws in, he was never going to let go of his possession.</p><p> </p><p>“You’d <em>better</em> not leave,” Adam smirks playfully, mirroring this sentiment as a spark of his old playful self came back now that he was getting more adjusted to being human. “Or I’ll have to chain you back up to the wall.”</p><p> </p><p>This threat thrilled Forte to his core and he feels a bolt of excitement rush through him. His Adam truly was so irreverent, and he couldn’t help but love it. It was such a tease that <em>surely</em> this young man must be asking for a show of dominance, must be <em>begging</em> to be ravished!</p><p> </p><p>He locks eyes with the Dauphin and gives him a stare filled with desire. Using his grip on Adam’s face to hold his head steady as he leans in, Forte prepares to give him the passionate, uninhibited kiss he’s always dreamed to give him as a low, hungry growl rises from the base of his throat.</p><p> </p><p>But just as he is about to claim Adam’s mouth under his influence, Adam holds up a hand to stop Forte short which causes Forte to grunt in frustration. “Master? You don't want me to--?<em>”</em> He can’t help but fumble a bit, which makes Adam chuckle.</p><p> </p><p>“No, Forte, I <em>do</em>,” Adam reassures, suggestively tracing his index finger in little circles across Forte’s chest much like he had touched his keyboard, which elicits a groan of pleasure from the older man. “But I was thinking, and--”</p><p> </p><p>“There will be plenty of time for thinking <em>later</em>, Master,” the musician justifies, trying to pushily lean his face back toward Adam’s. “There is no need for that right now. Just let me take care of you, let me make it <em>all</em> go away for this moment.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Forte</em>,” Adam laughs as he leans further back, keeping the eager composer at arm’s length, much to said man’s chagrin. That offer <em>was</em> mighty tempting, but...“If you kiss me <em>now</em>, we won’t get any time alone before the rest of the spell breaks,” the royal explains, smirking fondly in amusement at Forte’s scowl.</p><p> </p><p>Thinking back to the details of the curse, Forte can only sigh in begrudging acceptance as he realizes that Adam is right. Falling in love with each-other would turn <em>them</em> back human but in order to transform the rest of the castle and it’s residents, they would need to share true love’s kiss.</p><p> </p><p>...And as soon as they did that, the others would be all over the Prince, stealing his time and attention and essentially cock-blocking Forte. He did want some alone time with his newly-acquired lover before <em>that</em> inevitable fiasco, so the kiss would have to wait a bit.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Master,” Forte agrees with a begrudging and disappointed sigh, letting up on his attempt to snog Adam. “In that case, let us wait a bit longer to indulge in each-other.” Those words feel wrong even coming out of his mouth, but alas.</p><p> </p><p>It was much easier said than done because, as Forte had long cursed himself for, he had a <em>very</em> powerful libido and once it got started it was hard to put a stop to it. Even before the curse he had wanted Adam all the time, any place and any way.</p><p> </p><p>It was hard to forego that chance now that the opportunity presented itself, but he would have to try his hardest to exercise a smidgen of the self control he always displayed in other areas of his life, to put a pause on short term gratification for the sake of the long term. To spend time with his beloved uninterrupted.</p><p> </p><p>…And then a thought occurs to Forte that helps. By making the others wait to be changed back, Adam was choosing to put <em>Forte</em> first above them all. He was all but confirming that Forte was the most important thing to him. The thought delighted Forte, and he wished to hear Adam say as much. All it would take is a little prompting.</p><p> </p><p>“And the others?” he asks with false innocence. “I imagine they would be quite upset were we to keep them in their state of misery a moment longer.” He tries not to grin maliciously at the thought. It was time for <em>them</em> to feel what it was like to be the lowest priority.</p><p> </p><p>“Who cares what they want? That’s not <em>our</em> problem,” Adam scoffs as he shrugs off their potential concerns. “They can wait. This is more important...<em>w</em><em>e’re</em> more important. Right?”</p><p> </p><p>This was music, so to speak, to Forte’s ears. “Yes, sir. <em>Absolutely</em>.” He sounds a bit too pleased but, oh, he’s so in love with this Prince that he can hardly stand it! He just <em>adored</em> it when Adam got an attitude. When it wasn’t directed at him, of course.</p><p> </p><p>While Forte is grinning to himself like a fool, Adam glances around them as though suddenly becoming aware of where they were. “We should get up,” he surmises, letting go of Forte to try to raise himself up to his feet.</p><p> </p><p>But Forte quickly ascends to his full height before Adam can get his footing and offers the Prince a hand to pull him up, which is accepted as Adam joins him in standing. “Yes, the dirty floor is no place for a Prince and his Maestro,” Forte agrees with a little smirk, patting the dust off of his dark robes and light blue trousers.</p><p> </p><p>He is about to attempt to cheekily pat down Adam’s clothes too, but he realizes that in the split second he looked away to brush himself off Adam had wandered a few feet away up to where Forte’s organ form had just previously stood.</p><p> </p><p>“Look,” Adam announces, climbing up the steps to approach the spot, “there’s still an organ here.” Adam knew that before the curse this particular room had been more or less empty, just a spare room hidden in his chambers in the West Wing.</p><p> </p><p>“Well now, that <em>is</em> intriguing, isn’t it?” Forte muses, glancing up at the impressively tall instrument that loomed above them. Did the Enchantress mean for this to happen? He walks past Adam and gets up close to inspect it.</p><p> </p><p>Is this how it had felt to stand before him in his previous form? He felt a surge of confidence at the thought of seeming so impressive and intimidating. What a truly majestic organ! It was the same appearance as Forte’s organ body had been, but obviously no longer sentient. Just a shell now. <em>His</em> shell. It was rather creepy, really….which of course he loved.</p><p> </p><p>He hoped that he would be able to keep the organ once the castle changed back to normal completely. This organ form had grown dear to him in the few years he had inhabited it, and it looked quite valuable too as organs certainly were one of the most expensive instruments created.</p><p> </p><p>The composer’s eyes are drawn toward the keyboard, and he feels some sort of magnetic energy compelling his hand to touch it. Forte gives in to this lure and places a hand on the keyboard to brush it over the keys gently, emulating the way Adam had done it.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as his hand makes contact with the keys he feels a gentle spark of power zap through his fingers which makes him jolt slightly in surprise and recoil his hand. What <em>was</em> that?! Had Adam noticed?</p><p> </p><p>Glancing back over his shoulder, he sees that Adam is distracted with taking in their surroundings around the room, so Forte decides to investigate further. He puts his fingers back on the keys to stroke them, this time bracing for what could happen.</p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, it happens again. This time he keeps his hand there and holds it steady, noticing the green glow of magic pulsing in between his hand and the instrument. Did the organ still have the residue of magic inside it? Should it not be mundane now that he was no longer inhabiting it?</p><p> </p><p>Or….could it be?…Was it possible that he had maintained his powers even after turning back to a human? The Enchantress had gifted him these powers as a part of their deal, but she had also mentioned the fact that he had already possessed the predisposition for magical ability in his bloodline to begin with.</p><p> </p><p>There was only one way to find out, really. Pulling his touch a few inches or so away from the organ, he focuses on directing the magical energy through his hand….and sure enough it follows him, no longer connected to the organ at all!</p><p> </p><p>Forte works the energy through the fingertips of his thumb and index finger, feeling it up like one would test the quality of a garment. It truly felt like fabric under his touch, and like any good fabric it wove according to his ministrations.</p><p> </p><p>Scrupulously glancing back again to make sure that Adam was still distracted, Forte wills the sickly green energy away with a slight gesture of his hand. He goes back to stroke the keys in nostalgia, and this time nothing happens because he has gotten a better feel for how to control his powers.</p><p> </p><p>Should he tell Adam about them? That he still had his powers even though the curse upon them had been broken? It seemed like it would be an odd conversation to have, but surely Adam would notice at some point, right?</p><p> </p><p>Lost in his musings, the composer’s attention is suddenly broken by Adam’s voice behind him, sounding quieter than usual. He jumps again in surprise and instinctively yanks his hand away from the organ, hoping Adam didn’t see.</p><p> </p><p>“Forte?” Adam addresses slowly, tapping the composer on the back to get his full attention.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Master?” Forte responds, turning immediately to face Adam with a swish of his black robe. He studies Adam’s face, concerned that something might be wrong.</p><p> </p><p>He probably wouldn’t be able to shake that feeling of impending dread for a long time, seeing as how he was living this dream come true...and dreams always <em>ended</em> when you woke up.</p><p> </p><p>Adam does indeed look apprehensive to an extent that is unlike himself, and he looks down as though he has something uncomfortable on his mind. The sight makes Forte’s stomach clench, preparing for some sort of bad news to hit him like a tidal wave.</p><p> </p><p>Adam’s words do take him off guard, but not in the way he expected. “I’m, uh….I really am sorry for the way I treated you, you know,” he admits regretfully. “Can you...can you forgive me, Forte?” he asks, glancing up at Forte with sincere eyes.</p><p> </p><p>It was clear Adam wasn’t used to or comfortable with apologies and that the words were reluctant and forced, but still the sentiment warmed Forte’s black heart and he breaths an internal sigh of relief that nothing is wrong for the time being.</p><p> </p><p>"Of <em>course,</em>” Forte gasps, never expecting he’d live to see this day. “Heavens <em>yes</em>, Master! You needn’t even ask! I admit it broke my spirit to see you displeased with me, but deep down I knew you never truly meant it and that I ought to keep in mind everything you were dealing with,” he assures honestly.</p><p> </p><p>“So you’re not, um...still upset at me for blowing up at you? And taking your box? And reading through your stuff? You looked pretty pissed off earlier...” Adam mumbles as he rubs the back of his own neck in awkwardness, clearly not used to consciously caring what other people thought of him or if he had offended them.</p><p> </p><p>This was new indeed, and the fact that Forte had been the only one to earn such an honor thus far flattered him immensely. Adam, after all, must truly love him a <em>lot </em>to act so unlike himself just to show he cared...just to make sure he and Forte were on good terms again.</p><p> </p><p>“Upset? Certainly <em>not</em>, Master,” Forte replies earnestly. “If you hadn’t done those things, then we would not be standing here now. How could I ever fault you for bringing us together? <em>Besides</em>, I could never stay angry at you, Master. You truly are all that matters in this world.”</p><p> </p><p>And oh, wasn’t <em>that</em> an understatement, though he’d probably never get up the courage to divulge to Adam just how close he had been to taking his own life in despair when he thought he could never have the one thing in the world that he needed more than the air in his lungs or the music from his fingertips.</p><p> </p><p>“I too wish to apologize for my untoward behavior, Master,” he adds as he hangs his head a bit in shame and deference, hands folded in front of him. “I realize now that I was not truly angry at <em>you</em>, but rather that I chose a rather untoward way of expressing my hurt... and my fear. I should have known better.”</p><p> </p><p>Sensing that the atmosphere is getting a little too heavy and emotional, Adam’s posture kind of pulls back a bit defensively and he tries to brush off the discomfort of shared vulnerability. He really still wasn’t used to this whole ‘being nice to someone’ stuff.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well, I’d be scared too if I thought someone might see the kind of lovey-dovey junk that was on those pages,” Adam teases, forcing himself to crack a grin and lighten the mood. “It’s actually pretty funny, Forte. It goes against your little tough-guy-with-no-feelings act so I don’t blame you for getting all embarrassed.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Master</em>…” Forte scoffs with a scarlet blush at having the letters brought up and at getting made fun of. He recognizes that it is lighthearted, though, and he smirks ever-so-slightly at the hypocrisy of Adam changing the subject to avoid his <em>own</em> deeper feelings.</p><p> </p><p>He knows better than to fall for that same tough-guy show that Adam put on, the way he acted like he was above it all, cocky and unbothered. It was a charming front, but a front nonetheless. He could still see the insecurity flickering in those impressionable blue eyes. Behind that mask of confidence was a man looking for reassurance.</p><p> </p><p>If anything, Adam should have learned from their time together that sometimes it was best to embrace the pain rather than deflecting it. Besides, basking in each-other’s darkness and brooding together had been one of Forte’s favorite perks of being dear friends throughout the curse.</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t have to end just because the curse did. There was still plenty of darkness to go around, and he is still in the best position to comfort his master through such uncertainties and difficult times. He still has the gift of music to share, and now it is a gift that Adam has grown to appreciate as well.</p><p> </p><p>The Maestro sees an opportunity to take advantage of Adam’s vulnerable state and he takes a seat upon the bench in front of the giant organ. He leaves a space for Adam on the small seat beside him and turns to beckon the young man to his arms. He knows how hard apologizing must have been for Adam, so he feels that the Prince deserves to be reassured.</p><p> </p><p>“Please, let me console you, Master, like I always have,” he offers in a tone so compelling it’s damn near seductive. He was always so good at luring Adam into his grasp with words and sound. “Relax into my arms, rest your head on my shoulder. Let me play for you."</p><p> </p><p>“I--” Adam starts to protest that he doesn’t <em>need</em> to be consoled, but he hesitates at that compelling tone and, seeing the encouraging smile and the imploring look in his servant’s hypnotic black eyes, his willpower is broken and he concedes.</p><p> </p><p>He rolls his eyes and wordlessly makes his way toward the composer to take a seat beside him, indeed leaning up against him to get comfortable. Hearing some music wouldn’t be the <em>worst</em> thing right now, he supposed.</p><p> </p><p>Lighting up with pleasure once again at having Adam so close to him, Forte wraps one arm around Adam’s back and rests his hand on his master’s upper arm, pulling him closer into a closer cuddle so that Adam can comfortably rest against the musician’s body.</p><p> </p><p>Adam seems to melt right into it without a fuss, but instead of laying his head on Forte’s shoulder he rests his face against the side of his servant’s chest, and the feeling of it makes Forte’s heart nearly skip a beat. Oh, it felt so wonderful, like it was always <em>meant </em>to rest there.</p><p> </p><p>He can feel the throbbing of his heartbeat quicken against Adam’s face as his heart pumps overtime to keep up with the surplus of blood that was currently headed into his <em>lower </em>regions…he wonders if Adam is close enough to his lap to feel him shift.</p><p> </p><p>Trying not to linger on that thought, Forte clears his throat nervously as he places his feet on the organ peddles, pulling out some of the stops above the keyboard and then beginning to play Adam’s favorite nocturne.</p><p> </p><p>It was a bit difficult to play with one arm wrapped around Adam to reach the keyboard but naturally he managed due to his talent and determination, so he didn’t need to cheat by using his magic powers.</p><p> </p><p>“I know I can be an asshole sometimes, but... I do appreciate your forgiveness,” Adam says quietly, almost under his breath like he didn’t want to actually be heard at all. The poor thing was so uncomfortable, Forte couldn’t help but find it sweet.</p><p> </p><p>“There is <em>nothing</em> to forgive,” Forte insists, tightening his arm around Adam protectively as he continues to play the music, not even missing a note….as was expected of a musical genius of his caliber. After over forty years of practicing, he was as good at multitasking as one could get.</p><p> </p><p>He was confident that he could play music while doing just about <em>anything</em>….and now Forte has to force himself not to get distracted imagining himself playing the organ while Adam would kneel below and play with <em>his </em>organ.</p><p> </p><p>He clears his throat to rid himself of the tempting fantasy and tries to refocus on their conversation. “I don’t want you to change, Master. I meant what I said before. You are perfect just the way you are, and I want you to rest assured that you are always free to be yourself with me. You need never apologize for that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?” Adam asks skeptically, peaking up a bit to glance at Forte’s face to see if he was serious. It seemed impossible to fathom that someone could love Adam unconditionally like that, without wanting him to be something he wasn’t...like nicer, more patient, more understanding…</p><p> </p><p>Then again, those weren’t really qualities that <em>Forte</em> possessed in abundance either, and Adam had never grudged him for that because his other qualities made up for it. Maybe they <em>were</em> a perfect match after all, accepting of the qualities in each-other that had always caused other people to push them away.</p><p> </p><p>“I wouldn’t want it any other way, my Prince. Thanks to the enchantment I now know that you care for me deep down, and I understand who you are inside and out. <em>You</em> are the man I fell for, you and all that being with you entails. Nothing else matters, the rest is just chaff.”</p><p> </p><p>It was all true, and Forte loved that he was the one person in Adam’s life who didn’t try to change him, who loved him regardless of his quirks. It gave them more in common, really, and it made him feel special, like he had an irreplaceable part in Adam’s life, like he was <em>instrumental</em> to his well-being. It was leverage that Adam needed <em>him</em> too, an extra bit of control.</p><p> </p><p>Adam nods, trying to accept this new type of love inside himself. It wasn’t easy after so long of self-hatred and constantly being told through words and action that he wasn’t good enough as he was. “Yeah...I guess I <em>do</em> feel safer with you,” he admits quietly.</p><p> </p><p>Adam had spoken those words of confession out of instinct as though he had just said the first thing that came to his mind, but he didn’t seem to regret it and just pressed his cheek in closer against the organist’s chest as he took in the warmth of the bodily contact and the beautiful, haunting music.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, and you<em> are</em>, Master, I assure you," Forte whispers slyly as he keeps playing. "Your Forte is here to make sure that you are always tended to with the greatest of care." He sneaks a peek down at his precious Prince, becoming overwhelmed by the moment and with how much affection and desire overcomes him.</p><p> </p><p>This icky love had just felt so damn good that he couldn't and wouldn't fight against it any longer. He no longer had to fear it, instead he had it under his thumb. Feeling secure in that he was in control, he found himself able to fully enjoy the emotions and to really lose himself in them.</p><p> </p><p>The future was suddenly a hopeful prospect now. This is all Forte wanted, all he could <em>ever </em>want. The two of them alone, Adam completely his, nothing to separate or distract them from each other and their deepest of mutual adoration and companionship.</p><p> </p><p>“Good, because I’ll want to have you around to keep everyone in check that pisses me off when I’m King,” Adam jokes, but in a more gentle voice than usual as he was still being lulled by the music. He knew very well that he always liked to fight his own battles, but he wanted to tease Forte regardless.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                 And love of any kind is bad</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                      A dog, a child, a cat</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                         They take up so much precious time</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                            Now, where's the sense in that? </b> </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ugh. Now that they were together, the outside world and all who dwelt within it could go to hell as far as Forte was concerned. But... if being King and ruling the Kingdom was what Adam wanted, then Forte would not interfere with that so long as he still had monopoly on Adam's primary attention.</p><p> </p><p>He would gladly act as his adviser, his confidant and his paramour. So as long as Adam had no other in his life in <em>those</em> areas then Forte could find it in himself to manage to share Adam with work, especially if it gave them more opportunity to spend working <em>together.</em></p><p> </p><p>He didn’t doubt that they would make such a great team professionally as well. Adam would make a grand King in many ways...and Forte could make up for what Adam lacked in matters such as impulse control and wisdom. Those qualities would likely come to Adam with more age and experience, anyways.</p><p> </p><p>But even if they didn’t, Adam’s boldness, leadership skills and confidence mixed with Forte’s cunning, common sense and charisma would truly make one lethal and untouchable team anyways. Truly no one would be able to get in France’s way when it was under <em>their</em> ruler-ship.</p><p> </p><p>Forte had never desired a throne for <em>himself</em>, but the thought of being trusted and close enough to have that sort of influence over Adam as a King was an enticing prospect. He could work behind the scenes and guide Adam in the right direction, truly help bring glory to his reign.</p><p> </p><p>He would only use his powers of persuasion for Adam's own good of course, to help him make the best decisions possible. Those decisions being first for himself and Forte, and <em>then</em> for the Kingdom. The Kingdom of France was the least of Forte’s concerns.</p><p> </p><p>It was only on the list in the first place because he knew Adam cared about it, and like a good and humble servant, Forte knew he must tend to his master's wishes and needs, whatever they may be...as long as they were of no harm to him or their relationship, of course….</p><p> </p><p>Because nothing, absolutely <em>nothing</em>, would get in the way of their relationship...not even all of France. Forte would sooner crush the entire Kingdom, nay, the entire <em>world</em> to the ground than see that happen. Anyone who tried to intervene with their special bond would rue the day they were born, Forte would make sure of it.</p><p> </p><p>As he plays, the musician can feel himself growing harder at the thought of taking down all of these hypothetical enemies and keeping any interlopers at bay from <em>his</em> Prince. Taking a deep breath in, he smiles to himself in pleasure.</p><p> </p><p>It reminds him of a specific moment in time, the moment on that fateful night of the Christmas gala, right before the curse had begun. When Forte, full of desperate hope, had begun to play his Christmas piece as a gift for Adam.</p><p> </p><p>He could feel it like it was just yesterday. Not the bad parts that happened after, but rather how good it had felt to finally allow himself to express his pent-up feelings to the object of his desires through music. It had felt….freeing. Even if only for those few seconds.</p><p> </p><p>And this makes him realize: Adam had never even heard the whole piece! Forte had only gotten a few <em>seconds</em> into it before Adam had stopped him, and so pretty much all of that piece had remained unheard all this time, forgotten and packed away along with all of the other painful memories.</p><p> </p><p>That settled it. He simply<em> had </em>to play it now! It was Christmas again, after all! It was the perfect chance to make up for what happened years ago, to pick up where the night should have left off. He could have a do-over where everything would work out exactly how he wanted.</p><p> </p><p>Adjusting his arm around Adam and straightening his posture proudly, Forte begins to play the piece in question without telling Adam what it is. He wants to see if Adam remembers it by just those few notes and wants to test out how his Prince will react to hearing it first.</p><p> </p><p>Forte knew that it was honestly sort of a risk to play anything that could remind Adam of that night, but he hopes the fact that they are happy now will make up for that. That, this time, Adam will be interested to listen to what could have been.</p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, after a couple seconds, Adam raises his head and stares at the keyboard in recognition as the memory was triggered, though he doesn’t seem angry. Those notes, along with everything else from that night, was etched in his mind forever.</p><p> </p><p>“That song,” he comments, peering up at Forte from behind a lock of lustrous tan-colored hair that had fallen in front of his face, “...the song from <em>Christmas</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes looked a bit sad, <em>guilty</em> even, but Forte didn’t want Adam to feel sad or guilty for how he had reacted to the piece before…Well, maybe just a <em>little</em>. But mostly, he wanted Adam to feel the love and devotion that was present in the music itself.</p><p> </p><p>“Merry Christmas, Master,” Forte says with a deep chuckle that rises from his chest, smiling down at Adam in contentment. “I hope you don’t mind, but I thought you might like to hear what I had previously dedicated to you.” He wasn’t going to sing the lyrics he had written, though. That would just be embarrassing for both of them.</p><p> </p><p>“Now that you are aware of the <em>depth</em> of my feelings for you this time, I’m sure it would be impossible to mistake my intentions in playing it for you. I wonder, perhaps, if you hear it a bit differently now, with the benefit of hindsight? Does it sound different to your ears?”</p><p> </p><p>Looking thoughtful for a moment, Adam wraps an arm around Forte’s waist and nods against his chest. “Yeah... I can sort of hear something else now. I thought it was gloomy before, but now that I listen closely it’s... actually the opposite. It sounds...warm. I don’t know why I didn’t hear it this way before.”</p><p> </p><p>Noticing that Adam seems a bit frustrated with himself, Forte is quick to reassure him. “Well, you have more experience with my music now, your highness, so you are more easily able to pick up on these themes and appreciate the nuance within them.”</p><p> </p><p>This seems to ease Adam’s tension and his body relaxes again. He must have just been in a bad mood the first time he heard it, he realizes. When Adam was like that then it didn’t really matter what <em>anything </em>was, he wasn’t interested in hearing it.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s...romantic, I think...and good for the holidays. I really like it,” he compliments, continuing to listen carefully. The Prince was trying so hard to be able to offer some sort of informed feedback on a subject he knew so little about: the critique of music. Especially when it came to connecting his own feelings to it.</p><p> </p><p>He decides he ought to just speak on impulse from the heart, even though he isn’t sure it makes total sense. “You’re really good at it. It’s crazy when I think about it, how you can do that and make it seem so effortless....You’re really talented,” Adam flatters awkwardly.</p><p> </p><p>He feels as though he should have told Forte that before at some point. That he should have shown the slightest bit of appreciation for all of Forte’s talent and effort instead of just roasting him, especially since it had all been directed toward serving Adam...which was always a thankless job.</p><p> </p><p>He needed to make up for lost time with his words of affirmation, now that he was able to step outside of his own head-space for a moment and think about someone’s else’s feelings…only for <em>Forte’</em><em>s </em>feelings, though. Forte had proven himself the only one deserving of such consideration.</p><p> </p><p>Said man positively beams at this high estimation, the praise he had always craved, and he feels a vigor enter his soul and rejuvenate him to play with increased fervor. His chest puffs up a bit in pride, a blush once again forming under his makeup.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, <em>thank</em> you, my lord! How you <em>flatter</em> me with your praise!” He looks almost giddy. “It is a skill that takes time to learn through exposure and practice,” he explains, trying to sound humble to his master...which doesn’t last long. He just can’t help but brag to seem more attractive to his mate.</p><p> </p><p>“Naturally some people, such as <em>myself,</em> are born with a gift for it. I do not believe that creative genius like mine can ever truly be taught, though the appreciation of said creations certainly can be imparted upon those who have an open mind. You’re living proof of that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I guess I am...” Adam reflects quietly as though mulling over what this meant in his mind, that he had been able to offer any sort of valid feedback to a piece of music. That meant that Forte had actually managed to teach him something, which was no easy task.</p><p> </p><p>Adam had a habit of driving away all of his tutors in the past...but then again, Adam had never had a teacher like <em>Forte</em> before who took the time to try to understand him and take his learning needs into consideration.</p><p> </p><p>A teacher who was patient with him and willing to try to speak his language, to help him <em>understand</em> instead of yelling at him for not being able to follow along with a set curriculum that wasn’t designed for how his mind worked... even if Adam had pushed against it at every turn, god bless him.</p><p> </p><p>Finishing the piece with a flourish, Forte smiles proudly and looks down at Adam. “I’m so <em>glad</em> that you enjoyed my gift for you, Master.” It really was worth all the pain of what happened if only to lead up to this moment...the pain of having the piece initially rejected, shut down as well as brutally insulted.</p><p> </p><p>As agonizing as it had been, Forte would do it over again a million more times to secure <em>this</em> outcome. He would hit rock bottom every time if he knew it meant ending up here with Adam.</p><p> </p><p>Arms wrapped around Forte’s waist, Adam claps slowly with a ghost of a smirk, attempting to tease Forte. He had given him too many compliments, so now he had to even it out a bit. “Sure that was kind of nice, but can you play something an <em>actual </em>genius would make?”</p><p> </p><p>It seemed that Adam never lost his edge, no matter <em>how</em> vulnerable those blue eyes looked. “Of course, Master,” Forte tries to hold back a knowing smirk, feeling rather self-important despite this joke, now that Adam had already revealed just how much he liked Forte’s music. It made Forte feel superior to every other servant in the castle.</p><p> </p><p>So, in order to keep Adam’s interest which could often be hard won and easy to lose, Forte decides he will debut a particularly impressive part of his newest composition as a sample to Adam, to see what he thinks of it: a piece of his upcoming grand opera.</p><p> </p><p>During the curse Forte had spent most of the time that he wasn’t with Adam composing new music, and shortly after the curse started he had begun composing the opera he had always planned on. It wasn’t fully complete yet but he was very proud of it so far, and he had a feeling that it would be the masterpiece of his legacy.</p><p> </p><p>As he starts playing a part toward the end of the overture, Forte’s eyes flicker down to Adam’s expression briefly, trying to get a read on his intrinsic reaction. “Doesn’t this sound extravagant, Master?” he hints, fishing for more compliments.</p><p> </p><p>“Kind of spooky too,” Adam agrees, seemingly genuine now that he was able to appreciate the darkness of Forte’s tastes. His expression even seems a bit pleasantly surprised, as though he were entranced by what he heard and hooked on every note. “What is it? I don’t think you’ve played this one for me before.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, it’s just a small composition I’ve been working on in my spare time, it’s really <em>no</em> big deal,” Forte bluffs, trying and failing to feign humility again. “But I think this note sounds very pleasing when repeated at this tempo, don’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>“G Sharp, right?” the Prince questions nonchalantly, as though he hadn’t just shocked Forte so much with that bit of input that it halts him in his tracks and he stops playing.</p><p> </p><p>“Um!” he piped up in a gargled noise of surprise, posture going rigid. Since when did <em>Adam</em> have any sense of pitch? He had never seemed to be paying attention in any of their lessons, for certain. “Forgive me for asking, Master, but... how did you guess that?”</p><p> </p><p>The last time he had asked Adam to play a specific note on a keyboard during said lessons, the Prince had just smushed all the keys on Forte’s harpsichord at once so hard that it broke the instrument, retorting that he played the correct note ‘somewhere in there’.</p><p> </p><p>“Hm?” Adam raises his head to face Forte, looking a bit confused as to why that had received such an odd response. “I...didn’t. You told me that a few years ago, didn’t you? Or was it not G?” His tone is as nonchalant as his expression.</p><p> </p><p>“You were <em>listening</em> after all?” The idea is just so touching that it sends a shiver through Forte’s whole body and he feels slightly humiliated knowing that Adam probably felt it. Now that they were close together physically there was no hiding that sort of thing anymore. “You <em>remembered</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>Adam pauses to think for a moment, and recalls back when Forte had first started tutoring him in music at the request of the King. Adam had showed no interest and had made it very clear he would rather have been elsewhere. He had frequently called Forte and his craft ‘about as lively as a funeral’.</p><p> </p><p>Adam smirks a bit once he realizes why Forte is acting so strange. On further consideration, it would be a rather surprising epiphany for Forte to have, taking past behavior into account. But back then, Adam had just wanted to give Forte a hard time like he did with all of his teachers.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, maybe you weren’t <em>as</em> boring as I pretended you were,” the Prince teases Forte, tracing his index finger up and down the composer’s chest flirtatiously. “When all the rest of your tutors come from the clergy, it’s not every day that you get a teacher that’s actually <em>hot</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>This causes a throaty growl to rumble from inside Forte’s chest as he stares lecherously at Adam, feeling his self-control waning. “Oh, my beautiful Prince, you truly <em>are</em> full of surprises, aren’t you?” His voice is low and raspy, exposing just how impure his intentions are.</p><p> </p><p>Adam looks up, daring and yet vulnerable as he seems to acknowledge this desire and return it. He rests his hand flat against Forte's chest as though beseeching him to do something reckless and impulsive, something very Adam-like.</p><p> </p><p>With that hand pressed up against the Maestro’s heart, surely Adam must feel his breath slow and his heartbeat quicken rapidly again. They look into each-other's eyes and the tension between them could be cut with a knife...the tension that had been boiling ever since the curse began.</p><p> </p><p>"Any good ones so far?" Adam prods, parting his lips ever-so-slightly to show them off because he knows it would make him appear more sultry and seductive. He knew he had nice lips.</p><p> </p><p>Forte knew it too. After all, he had spent so much time gawking at them before the curse. What a tease Adam was! At this point he was just <em>begging</em> for it! Surely Forte couldn’t be held accountable for anything that arose from the occasion.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, the very <em>best</em>," the court composer whispers, leaning in ever closer as though drawn toward those soft lips like a magnet, "and I can't wait to find out what <em>else</em> you have hidden. You've been so very naughty in keeping it secret, you know."</p><p> </p><p>Seeming to enjoy this banter and suggestive teasing immensely, Adam tilts his head, a look of temptation in his eyes. A challenge. "Well I have to keep you on your toes, don't I? Otherwise it wouldn't be nearly as delicious when you do find out."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh?” Forte quirks a brow playfully, turning fully away from the keyboard to wrap both of his arms around his lover. He cups Adam’s lower back in his firm hand, getting dangerously close to what he <em>really</em> wanted to squeeze. “And just how <em>delicious</em> does it get?"</p><p> </p><p>"I guess there's only one way to find out,” Adam challenges, not backing away from the eye contact for a minute. He wasn’t shy at all, particularly for someone with no experience in physical relationships. Forte found that impetuous and unearned confidence wildly sexy.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t tempt me, Master,” Forte warns darkly, drinking in Adam’s form with his eyes as though it were a tempting oasis in the midst of the brutal desert sun. “You’ve no <em>idea</em> what you’re asking for.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, <em>really</em>?” Adam teases as he continues to rub Forte’s chest, leaning in closer to ghost his smirking lips over Forte’s mouth. “You going to prove it, or are you just all talk as usual?”</p><p> </p><p>Forte can’t help but smirk at this challenge, thoroughly amused and aroused at Adam’s games. Clearly this was a brazen sign that Adam was done waiting any longer for the rest of the spell to be broken...and if he wasn’t, then too bad. He had provoked Forte’s lust one too many times to get away with it.</p><p> </p><p>"Mhh," the musician groans dominantly, his deep voice vibrating from his chest against Adam’s hand as he pulls his Prince flush against his body. When he presses their lips together for the first time, he revels in the sweet taste and the warm, soft wetness of their unity.</p><p> </p><p>Adam kissed back aggressively, and in that moment it was like everything brightened. The world finally made sense. Magical lights of acid green swirled around their entangled bodies and burst out of the windows, forming colored fireworks in the sky which lit up the whole room from outside.</p><p> </p><p>The sparks sizzle and surround the whole castle, melting away the grotesque appearance of the palace around them and making it look once again just as regal as it did before the curse. The sky too lit up, and the dark clouds that had permanently brewed above the castle gave way to the light pink of a winter dawn’s horizon.</p><p> </p><p>Forte paid little mind to this beautiful sight, however, as he was too preoccupied in enjoying the beautiful sight in his arms after so long, the inevitable conclusion to years of sexual tension...especially for Forte, since he had been the only one of the two who was painfully aware of said tension.</p><p> </p><p>Adam smirks playfully into the kiss as he sees the spell breaking from the corner of his eye, clearly happy that the curse had been broken entirely and also amused that Forte kept going at him despite this, not at all interested in watching the event unfold.</p><p> </p><p>“Look, Forte, it--” but when Adam tries to pull away for a second to say this, Forte furrows his brow in frustrated determination and forces his lips back on the Prince’s to shut them up, grabbing Adam and pulling him up onto his lap where he could more easily access him.</p><p> </p><p>Adam doesn’t fight this at all, cocking a brow down at Forte in a mix of incredulous amusement. He instead leans forward against his lover, trying to use his own body to take control of the kiss as he wraps his arms around Forte’s neck, sliding his tongue into the Maestro’s mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no no, Master,” Forte chuckles darkly, using his deceptively considerable amount of upper-body strength to regain control of the situation, pushing Adam back so that he’s now leaning against the keyboards of the organ.</p><p> </p><p>It was cute that the Prince had tried to overpower him, to take charge of their intimacy. Extremely sexy, too. Adam must like that kind of teasing, enjoying a bit of a fight for dominance...but he would learn quickly that sex was one area that Forte would<em> not</em> submit in.</p><p> </p><p>Once he has a steady grasp on his master, Forte slips his hands under Adam’s backside and forcefully lifts him as he stands up, placing a struggling Adam seated down on the keyboards, not caring how uncomfortable it probably was.</p><p> </p><p>It makes a loud, discordant jumble of noise from the organ pipes, and the sound of it, the sound of their love, turns Forte on even more. He’d have to remember this unruly succession of notes and incorporate it into a piece later, dedicated to their love.</p><p> </p><p>He pushes Adam back so he is pressed against the stop board and leans over him to pin him down under his body so the Prince couldn’t easily escape...not that he looked like he wanted to <em>actually</em> escape, of course. In fact Adam’s face was flush with desire.</p><p> </p><p>His eyes were as hungry and wild as they were when he had been a beast, and it drove Forte mad. Growling like one himself, he presses his body directly down against Adam’s and forcefully claims his mouth once again, nearly jamming his tongue down Adam’s throat this time.</p><p> </p><p>Adam chokes on it for a second and then laughs into the kiss at just how heated things were getting, how the situation was escalating to become more and more intense. His chest heaves as he tries desperately to breathe properly, but it was hard when someone was controlling how much air you could get.</p><p> </p><p>The Prince tries halfheartedly to wrestle free from his composer’s grip again, but it does nothing other than bang out another weird, contrasting combination of notes from the keys underneath him. He realizes he is not going to get loose this way, so instead of struggling he decides to get Forte back.</p><p> </p><p>In an effort to exert some form of power over the musician, Adam reaches behind Forte and clutches his back with both hands, digging his fingers in and scraping his nails down it, hard enough to be felt through the Maestro’s clothes.</p><p> </p><p>This indeed catches Forte off-guard and he breaks the passionate kiss to let out a groan of pleasure at the pain. Oh, the sting of those nails breaking his skin felt so good! As did knowing that he had impassioned Adam to the point where he needed to do such a wanton thing.</p><p> </p><p>Now Adam was <em>really</em> asking for it, the composer thought to himself as he glared down at Adam with devilish narrowed eyes...not the sort of anger but rather of absolute intention, and one intention only: absolutely <em>owning</em> Adam’s body.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think you <em>realize</em> what you just did, Master.” It was time to stop playing around. If the Prince wanted to be shown what it was <em>really</em> like to be taken by Forte, then Forte would indeed show him, and show him without mercy. It was time to expose his true power.</p><p> </p><p>The composer’s hands begin to glow with magic as he reaches behind himself to take hold of the Prince’s wrists, easily overpowering him and forcefully pinning his hands beside his head.</p><p> </p><p>In order to prevent his lover from being able to free himself, he uses his magic to create glowing green bands of musical bars. They wrap around Adam’s wrists, tying him down to the organ and fastening tightly. Forte grins hungrily, now able to let go of the Prince’s arms.</p><p> </p><p>“What the <em>hell</em>, Forte?” Adam groans in confusion, his brow furrowed in annoyance that he had been overpowered like this. He struggled against the bonds, confused as to how and why Forte suddenly had his powers back, but he can’t wriggle free.</p><p> </p><p>Any time he tries to apply force up against his restraints, they only tighten even more and bang out a discordant cacophony as the musical notes swell and pulsate against his reddened flesh. Stubborn as ever, though, Adam keeps fighting against them.</p><p> </p><p>“You won’t be able to break free, Master,” Forte insists with a deranged smile and fondness in his eyes as he looks down at his captured Prince. “I’m afraid that the bonds of my love are just too strong for that...though I love how you writhe against them nonetheless.”</p><p> </p><p>Had Adam <em>really</em> wanted to escape he could have actually tried fighting back against Forte himself by kicking against him, but he didn’t. Not even a little. He was enjoying this game they were playing just as much as Forte was, and he loved playing hard to get like this.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yeah? We’ll see about that,” the Prince threatens, trying to put on a smirk to make himself seem more confident than he really was. In truth, he knew he couldn’t escape from the tethers. Trying to overpower a Forte who apparently still had magic powers would be futile, but that didn’t mean Adam had to stop playing along.</p><p> </p><p>Now that he is free to do as he pleases, Forte rips open the front of Adam’s blouse and immediately latches on to the beautiful, milky skin underneath. He mercilessly sucked on the prince’s lower neck and collarbone, leaving behind large hickeys that adorn the royal’s skin like a necklace of little bites so sharp they drew blood.</p><p> </p><p>Adam gasps at this, pretense of ‘fighting back’ lost for the moment as he tilts his head to expose more of his throat, desperate for more of this cruel treatment. He was getting so hard now. He wanted it <em>so bad</em>, and he never was one for impulse control...</p><p> </p><p>But now that his head is turned to the side, his eyes land on the doors across the room and he realizes in a moment of clarity just how vulnerable he is and, more importantly, how vulnerable he must <em>look</em>. What would his servants think if they walked in and saw him like this? Would they understand it was just a game, or would they think him weak?</p><p> </p><p>“What if--someone finds us?” Adam voices unevenly through a gasp as he tries again to break free without much luck, eyes flickering back toward the unlocked door. Sure it was kind of hot to think they could be caught, but only for the thrill of the risk. He didn’t want anyone to <em>actually</em> see him like this.</p><p> </p><p>And surely the rest of the castle staff must be aware that the spell had broken at this point? Surely they must have changed back already, since it appeared that the castle itself had? There <em>was</em> a real risk of someone walking in and Adam didn’t want to be seen in such a personal and, quite frankly, undignified state.</p><p> </p><p>But Forte didn’t care about any of that. This room was hidden, no one but the two of them and Fife knew it was here. Besides, the others were the last thing on his mind. "I've waited <em>so long </em>to have you, my lord,” he gasped in need against his master’s hot flesh. “I can't wait a moment longer.”</p><p> </p><p>Demonstrating this, Forte slides one of his thighs in between Adam’s legs and uses it to insistently pry them open. As though to avoid any resistance on Adam’s part, the composer keeps nibbling and sucking on his neck as he does this to keep the young Prince nice and distracted since it had worked so well the first time.</p><p> </p><p>This indeed makes Adam moan as he allows Forte to part his legs with minimal struggle, seeming to forget himself and submit against his natural instincts. Clearly the Prince’s throat was an erogenous zone, Forte concluded as he invades upon the new territory right away and leans positioned right up between Adam’s legs.</p><p> </p><p>Forte can’t help but smirk at this newfound control he was exerting over the once unruly Prince, just how easy it had ultimately been to tame him under his sexual spell after seeing him talk a big game. But just as he is about to gloat about that fact, Adam’s willpower seems to flicker back into the forefront.</p><p> </p><p>Before Forte can even say a word to tease his lover, an undignified and grunt-like moan wrenches forth from his lips, sounding very much unlike himself as Adam tries to regain some semblance of control by taking advantage of their position and grinding up against Forte’s front.</p><p> </p><p>It feels so good to have Adam grind up against his erection, which was now so hard that it was positively throbbing in the confines of his pants, that Forte even pauses for a moment just to inhale sharply and gather his bearings. It was so difficult to stay in control of <em>himself</em>, to not just become putty in Adam’s hands.</p><p> </p><p>His head is clouded with passionate lust, and his body is pulsating with warmth, radiating like a furnace. Warmth, heat, <em>fire</em>….Yes, was it just him, or was it really hot in this room all of a sudden? He almost couldn’t bear the prickle of heat under his clothes. They needed to come off, anyways.</p><p> </p><p>“Just <em>ta</em><em>ke</em> me already, Forte,” Adam demands with that usual impatient, commanding look in his eye he would show when he knew he would get his way. Only this time, the slightest wavering tone in his voice says that he is more desperate than he lets on.</p><p> </p><p>How could Forte resist<em> that</em>? He was only human, after all. The young Prince had been such a naughty tease, but Forte couldn’t find it in his heart to tease him back and make his lord wait any longer for satisfaction. Truthfully, he didn’t know if he had enough willpower to wait any longer himself.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Master, I am here to serve,” he whispers erotically into Adam’s ear as he places hot kisses under it and nibbles on his earlobe ever-so-gently in contrast to the way he had roughed up his neck and chest. His eyes glow green with magic. “Let me pleasure you, as I promised.”</p><p> </p><p>Seeming to give in completely now to this alluring spell, Adam growls throatily and keeps up his movements by grinding against Forte. His motions were becoming increasingly desperate, thoughtless, <em>pleading</em>. He was under Forte’s influence.</p><p> </p><p>Forte is drunk with desire and power as he pins Adam down further. Adam was no longer fighting against the bonds, but the resulting music that their writhing was still causing on the keyboard tore through the air. A dissonant omen.</p><p> </p><p>It was <em>finally</em> time to do what he had dreamed of doing ever since he had first laid eyes upon the Prince, what he had given up hope of ever being <em>able</em> to do until as recently as an hour ago. The one thing left that he needed to fulfill himself.</p><p> </p><p>“Does it feel so very <em>good</em>?” Forte taunted perversely in a song-like voice that rivaled even the most sadistic of torturers, grinding down against Adam in turn. He doesn’t even give the Prince a chance to respond as he forces a barrage of messy kisses upon his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>The final kiss had a sharp little bite to Adam’s lower lip at the end. “Have I set your body ablaze, like the fire that burns for you inside of me?” the musician continues his taunts darkly, licking the residual taste of Adam’s delicious blood from his fang-like incisors.</p><p> </p><p>Knowing that his lover is too lost in bliss to reply, he grabs the waistband of Adam’s pants and starts to tug them down, not at all caring if they got ripped in the process. “Shall I<em> defile</em> your innocence?” The clasp comes undone, as though giving in under his will just as Adam had.</p><p> </p><p>“Tell me how much you want me, Master, how much you <em>need</em> me,” he groans temptingly as his heartbeat thuds against his chest. Or is that Adam’s heartbeat? He can’t tell, their torsos are pressed so close together that their hearts may as well beat like one.</p><p> </p><p>“For I am and always have been yours, all you must do is say the word and I will fill you completely,” he promises in his deep, hypnotic voice, working to undo the front of his own pants now that he has Adam’s open. “Let me make you <em>whole</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Looking up at Forte, his own eyes now reflecting a slight green tint in his trance-like hypnosis, Adam has to force himself to make words to express how much he wanted this, how ready he was for Forte to claim him and pleasure him. He <em>does</em> need this. “I--”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>THUD.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Before Adam can finish his plea and Forte finish getting his pants down, the doors across the room burst open. The green glow in their eyes is extinguished and the magical bonds evaporate as Adam and Forte both stop in their tracks.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <b>                                    Love takes the wildest heart and makes it tame</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                         If you're turned on, then just turn off </b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                    Emotions are a thing all great men overcame</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                     Please don't make this grande catastrophe</b> </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A loud round of cheer erupts from numerous rowdy voices. Forte’s head whips over in horror to face the source of the noisy interruption. Much to his despair, he sees some of Adam’s other servants pouring into the doorway, unaware of what they intruded upon.</p><p> </p><p>He really, truly thought they wouldn’t think to come looking in this hidden room, that it was practically soundproof unless he used his magic specifically to be heard from outside…But then again, maybe that traitor Fife had led them here. The thought makes Forte’s already heated blood positively <em>boil</em> with rage.</p><p> </p><p>“Your highness! Your highness! Congratulations!” the servants all cry in jubilation, babbling over each-other and taking a few skips forward into the room...before freezing right in their spots, mouths immediately dropping wide open in shock at what the saw inside.</p><p> </p><p>Except for Cogsworth, who had his eyes closed and was too busy bragging his own monologue to realize that something was wrong. The normally well-kept man had a rather noticeable smudge of wax on the corner of his lapel, but he didn’t seem to realize this either as he continued blabbering through the awkward silence.</p><p> </p><p>“They told me the spell would never be broken, Master, but I <em>knew</em> it wasn’t true, I just knew it! And might I say, not a <em>single</em> one of these naysayers believed in you, but I did! The whole time I’ve said it, haven’t I said it? ‘The master will fall in love and the spell will be broken,’ yes, that’s exactly what I said, and I--”</p><p> </p><p>THWACK.</p><p> </p><p>Lumiere, mouth still agape, smacks Cogsworth on the back of his head to get him to stop rambling long enough to realize what was going on. It succeeds in knocking the majordomo’s wig off his head, and he glares back at Lumiere as he leans down to pick it up, convinced that the concierge was just jealous. “What did you do that for, you blundering little—OH!”</p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, Cogsworth’s eyes land on the surprising sight before him and the realization of what they were all staring at dawns on him. Namely their master, pants undone and pinned under Maestro Forte on top of a giant organ’s keyboard. “…….<em>Oh</em>.” He swallows nervously, trying to find the words to continue.</p><p> </p><p>Chuckling nervously, he tries lightening the tension, but he doesn’t step any closer. “I mean—Oh, heh, yes, indeed. <em>Well</em>, Master, I—Um.” He looks around the room frantically for an out, voice getting squeaky and small. “Where’s your, uh…. where’s the lucky lady?” As if cognitive dissonance would save him.</p><p> </p><p>This receives continued silence. “<em>Ithoughtyousaidtherewasalucky</em><em>l</em><em>ady?</em>” Cogsworth turns his face quickly to snip under his breath behind his hand at Lumiere with a lethal glower, who gives him a bewildered shrug.</p><p> </p><p>Adam, quick to think on his feet and even quicker to act, pushes Forte off of himself and does up his pants. Forte allows him to get up this time, relinquishing his hold on the Prince in a combination of embarrassment and resentment at the interruption. He just stands in front of Adam awkwardly as Adam adjusts to sit up.</p><p> </p><p>Forte had waited what felt like a lifetime for this moment, and if it was possible to loathe those meddlers any more than he already had, he surely did now! He had half a mind to just blast them out of the window with magic, but because he had been waiting so long to win Adam over he felt as though he ought to keep him appeased and wait upon his command to take action.</p><p> </p><p>He feels his arousal start to dissipate and morph into violent aggression, but he forces it down into the pits of his soul. He<em> must </em>maintain his composure and get this over with so that he and Adam could get back to their important business.</p><p> </p><p>Adam starts to step forward, but Forte places a hand on his shoulder to pause him. Adam glances behind his shoulder, annoyed by everything about the situation. He had warned Forte of this, after all. <em>“What?”</em> he whispers tensely under his breath.</p><p> </p><p>“My apologies, Master,” Forte offers quietly as he bows his head in admittance of fault. He knew what Adam was thinking, and he had to make it up to him. “Please, allow me to deal with the matter for you and save you the trouble.”</p><p> </p><p>Adam pauses for a minute, looking back over to the uncomfortable servants and trying to make up his mind. He really <em>didn’t</em> feel like dealing with them right now, and he didn’t feel like blowing up either. Not when this was supposed to be his perfect Christmas.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah...okay,” Adam agrees with a sigh as he pulls his shoulder from Forte’s grip. “Just don’t be nice. I want them <em>out</em> of here.” Not that he really had to remind Forte to not be nice, but still. He wanted that emphasized this time.</p><p> </p><p>Forte smirks wickedly and nods to the Prince. “Yes, sir. Of course.” It was the perfect opportunity to be mean! He was always mean to them, naturally, but this time he had express <em>permission</em>. He looks back over at the group, awaiting their fate.</p><p> </p><p>“There is no <em>‘l</em><em>ucky l</em><em>ady’</em>,” the composer drawls with disgust and offense, walking over to the group to stand menacingly before them. “It is <em>you</em> who should consider yourselves lucky that the master and I have broken the curse.”</p><p> </p><p>He sneers down at them, wishing he could just kill them all where they stood and be rid of their nuisance for good. A giant blast of his magical illusions would likely suffice. Well, one could dream. “You’re <em>welcome,” </em>he goads<em>,</em> even though they scarcely deserved the favor.</p><p> </p><p>It was clear they were still having trouble processing the information of what they had seen and were now hearing, partially because they had clearly been expecting a woman and likely also because they had never really trusted or liked Forte. Catching him like that with the master was surely confusing to say the least.</p><p> </p><p>...Except for Fife. He didn’t seem disturbed in the slightest. “Ohhh, that’s so <em>romantic, </em>Maestro!” Fife pipes up from the group, breaking the tense silence with his foolishness as he swoons up against the librarian, Webster.</p><p> </p><p>Forte gives him a lethal glare to shut him up, but the rest of the servants look over at the piccolo-player, who practically has hearts in his eyes as he fawns over the idea of his normally grumpy mentor having a soft spot and finding love with the Prince.</p><p> </p><p>Forte previously thought that <em>nothing</em> could make the thought of he and Adam’s love seem icky, but having Fife fawn over them together was really pushing the boundaries of that assumption. This was just plain embarrassing and disrespectful!</p><p> </p><p>But Fife’s squeeing also causes Mrs. Pott’s surprised face to turn into a gentle smile, and it seemed the mood lightened at once after that. They still looked apprehensive and confused, but following her lead, one by one, nervous smiles broke out and a general murmuring of acceptance emitted from the small crowd.</p><p> </p><p>They were honestly too relieved that the spell had been broken to be upset about what they saw, and while it had been an unexpected thing to walk in on, if Forte and the master were happy then who were they to judge? Surely the enchanted rose knew best if it had approved of them together.</p><p> </p><p>“Zis is cause for a <em>large</em> <em>celebration</em>,” Lumiere begins as he side-steps Forte and tries to approach Adam, preparing to indulge in one of his flowery bouts of flattery….the sort that always made Forte clench his fists in fury because it would take attention off of him.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I do believe certain formal congratulations are in order,” Cogsworth chimes in, pushing past Lumiere to get to the forefront. This makes Lumiere do the same in turn with a rascally chuckle. It almost sounded….fond. Like the way Adam had chuckled when he was teasing Forte.</p><p> </p><p>Behind them, Chip maneuvers his eyesight from out of his mother’s hand, who allows it since nothing inappropriate is currently happening anymore. His dog, Sultan, starts barking and runs around the room in circles excitedly, sniffing a very agitated Forte’s robes, who shoos it off abruptly.</p><p> </p><p>Trying to stay out of the way of Sultan and prevent Lumiere and Cogsworth from getting too close to the master, Forte scrambles up ahead of them and blocks their path. “<em>Master</em>,” he looks over at Adam for backup since they clearly weren’t respecting his wished. Adam looks equally as annoyed as Forte does.</p><p> </p><p>“Get <em>out</em>,” is the Prince’s irate response, crossing his arms defensively as he stays stubbornly seated on the organ keyboard. “I don’t care about your stupid well-wishes, can’t you see I’m <em>busy</em> here? You can’t just intrude upon me without warning like that!”</p><p> </p><p>Forte smirks cockily at this as though he was entirely vindicated with those words, and he resumes trying to shoo the two men out now. “You heard the master,” he brags in a smug tone. “You’re not welcome here. <em>We’re</em> busy<em>.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Their faces all droop at this reaction, Chip’s in particular. Lumiere looks back at Chip, who gives him big sad eyes. Lumiere takes hold of Cogsworth’s hand to draw his attention back to the child. The pitiful disappointment in Chip’s eyes couldn’t be avoided.</p><p> </p><p>The two men look at each-other and aggressively mouth words as though having a silent argument as to who would have to speak up against a cranky Adam. Cogsworth finally seems to win the argument when he nudges Lumiere with an elbow, and the concierge sighs in defeat.</p><p> </p><p>“...Actually, your highness, eh, before we go,” Lumiere begins in his most gracious voice, trying to appease Adam’s potential and inevitable anger, “we were meaning to ask...you would like to have a holiday celebration zis year, yes?”</p><p> </p><p>He wondered what had happened to the version of his master who was grateful for his help less than an hour ago. Adam’s moods were fickle and unpredictable, yes, but this time it reeked of Forte’s hateful influence.</p><p> </p><p>Seeing the disgusted look on Adam’s face, Lumiere continues, trying to convince him further. “It eez <em>Christmas</em>, after all, and...considering recent events, it might be, eh,<em> fitting</em> to hold a celebration now zat we are human again, no? After all, it has been, what, <em>ten years</em> since the castle has seen a Christmas?”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Ten</em> years?” Chip interjects as he rubs Sultan’s fluffy tummy, looking more hopeful now at the mention of a Christmas celebration. “More like a hundred!” he whines in the sort of way children often would when they were complaining due to lack of patience or understanding.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s been precisely <em>three</em>, actually,” Cogsworth corrects, pushing past Lumiere to correct that misinformation as Lumiere rolls his eyes at Cogsworth and how he just couldn’t help himself but be a know-it-all.</p><p> </p><p>Seeing the darkening look in Lumiere’s eyes that shows he is far from impressed, Cogsworth chuckles nervously when he realizes he is not helping the cause to convince Adam any. “But—but that is still three too <em>many</em> in my humble opinion, your highness.”</p><p> </p><p>Forte couldn’t believe the nerve of these imbeciles! To not only disobey a direct order and extend their presence, but to suggest a Christmas party of all things while knowing how Adam felt about that, how it tormented and reminded him of his past.</p><p> </p><p>The Maestro walks back over to Adam in a preemptive attempt to soothe him. “We have no need for such pointless frivolities, Master,” he whispers suggestively in Adam’s ear so that no one else can hear. “We could have our own <em>celebration</em> all day, just the two of us.”</p><p> </p><p>Adam seemed to feel the same way as Forte did about the thought of a party, and Forte’s offer sounded way more appealing. “I <em>told</em> you, I’m busy,” the Dauphin directs at Cogsworth. “I don’t <em>care</em> what you think, I already said that we’re not having a celebration for Christmas! Are you deaf, or just that stupid?!” the Prince snaps, glaring daggers at the insistent servants.</p><p> </p><p>“You had better listen to my master now,” Forte ordered in finality, gesturing with one hand for them to get lost right that instant. “My master says that we are not having a Christmas, and so we are not having a Christmas. That is the end of the story.”</p><p> </p><p>They all look worried, disappointed and slightly hurt at this but surprisingly it is a timid Chip who speaks up this time. Innocently, of course, but as though by fate saying just the right thing. “But what about the <em>presents</em>?” he says in a tiny, pitiful voice with his hands behind his back.</p><p> </p><p>The word ‘presents’ catches Adam’s attention immediately, and sure enough his tune starts to change. His expression goes from grumpy to pensive all in one second. “Yeah….what <em>about</em> the presents, Forte?” he questions, as though wondering what Forte could possibly say to counter the temptation of this.</p><p> </p><p>A twinge of worry trickles through Forte as he glares daggers at Chip. The composer knew that Adam <em>looooved </em>presents, so he needed to act fast. He leans back in to whisper in his master’s ear, this time a bit less subtle. “<em>I</em> have a big present for you right here, Master.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm,” Adam thinks to himself, mulling it over as everyone in the room gawks at him with bated breath and fingers crossed, hoping for the best. He had to consider this more carefully than he usually did since both options were appealing.</p><p> </p><p>On the one hand, the thought of having sex all day with his exciting new lover sounded really tempting….but on the other hand, he could have both sex <em>and </em>presents if he just cut back a bit on the former.</p><p> </p><p>And really, what valid argument was there against presents? <em>Nothing</em>, that’s what. Not even spending the whole day getting laid to exhaustion. He wanted lots of presents too, and he wanted them bad. So he says as much to Forte. “I want presents, Forte.”</p><p> </p><p>Sighing begrudgingly as he rolls his eyes down to the floor, Forte opts to keep his lord pleased and obey his wishes despite his immeasurable disappointment. He knew there was no way of winning this argument. The presents had already spoken via Chip, and once Adam heard from the presents there was no turning back.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, sir... of course,” he concedes with a bow of reluctant defeat as he ignores the triumphant cheers of the rest of the staff. He was entirely loathe at the prospect of having to share his master’s time and attention when he had wanted him all to <em>himself</em>, to make love to him all day...to make beautiful music together.</p><p> </p><p>And then, the thought of revenge occurs to him and it makes a wicked smirk grow on his face as he gets an idea on how to accomplish it. “Master...I could make sure you get all of the presents and holiday grandeur that you desire….if, perhaps, you were to allow <em>me</em> to oversee the plans for the gala this evening?”</p><p> </p><p>Adam looked questioningly at Forte for a moment. Usually Cogsworth was in charge of that sort of thing since he was the manager of the staff...but Adam was still displeased with Cogsworth at the moment. He also trusted Forte to deliver the best of the best since he had a lot on the line.</p><p> </p><p>It was probably for the best. “Go for it,” Adam approves with a shrug to Forte. He then looks over to his bewildered servants to confirm the order to them. “Do whatever Forte says today or you’ll be in trouble.”</p><p> </p><p>Perfect! Just what Forte wanted to hear. Receiving this permission, Forte turns to the servants with a malicious look. “Now, since you were all so <em>keen</em> to bestow the perfect Christmas upon my master, you had best be getting to the preparations bright and early, yes?”</p><p> </p><p>They all just blink at him with blank stares.</p><p> </p><p>“Right, soooo...<em>y</em><em>ou</em> lot! I want you you to listen carefully and take notes, because I’ll only say this once,” Forte orders, pointing aggressively to the trio of men nearest the doors: Webster the librarian and his assistants Le Plume the scribe and Crane the notary.</p><p> </p><p>Scrambling to pull out some parchment from his satchel, Crane hands it to Le Plume who readies his quill with wide eyes, prepared for Forte to dictate his orders on behalf of the Prince.</p><p> </p><p>Forte grimaces at them and begins dictating, <em>really</em> dragging it out dramatically as though he were performing a villainous monologue in a play. He even has to force himself not to grin in glee when he sees the look of dismay on their faces.</p><p> </p><p>“First of all, I expect every single person in this castle to promptly get to work as soon as I’m done here. You <em>all</em> have jobs to do.” He then turns to the individuals standing in the group, giving them their duties one by one.</p><p> </p><p>“Lumi<em>ere</em>,” he says the name with distaste, “you are in charge of the celebrations and the atmosphere of the festivities. I want you to keep things appropriately <em>professional</em>, and that includes keeping your hands off of scullery maids.”</p><p> </p><p>The former candelabra’s jaw slacks open as though he were about to protest this and defend his own honor, but Forte moves on to the next before he can get the chance, looking pleased that he had upset Lumiere.</p><p> </p><p>“Cogsworth. You will be overseeing the staff, as per usual. I want you responsible for the scheduling as well, but your main task will be to ensure that everyone, your troublemaker of a<em> sidekick</em> in particular, stays on track and performs my instructions to a golden standard.”</p><p> </p><p>He smirks, knowing he was giving them all tasks that they would either have a hard time with or find miserable, like telling Lumiere to behave himself, then directly putting Cogsworth in charge of Lumiere’s behavior...and doing something like making sure the generous Mrs. Potts couldn’t give out gifts to everyone, which is what he does next.</p><p> </p><p>“Potts! You have the most important task of all. I’m putting <em>you</em> in charge of acquiring and wrapping the gifts…” He paused, reveling in her hopeful smile at being given something she was actually excited about...before he crushed that hope completely.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, but I should mention: the only gifts present under the tree are to be those in tribute to the master, so there will be <em>no</em> exchanging of presents between staff this year...and no exceptions for family.” He looked pointedly between Mrs. Potts and Chip with a smirk.</p><p> </p><p>Enjoying how they visibly withered at this, Forte continued on to his next victim, Chef Bouche. “I suspect you’re smart enough to guess where this is going, big guy?” Forte mocks sarcastically, which causes the very hostile and temperamental cook to turn red with rage.</p><p> </p><p>Either too cocky or too foolish to stop goading a very large, very angry man, Forte continues. “Then again we mustn’t make assumptions because apparently Christmas is <em>far</em> too important for that, so I’ll spell it out for you loud and clear: food.”</p><p> </p><p>He pats the Chef’s shoulder patronizingly. “Did you hear me in that thick skull of yours? You’re in charge of preparing the food, and you’d better prepare enough to feed the entire Kingdom! They won’t be attending, of course, but it’s better to be safe than <em>sorry</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Chef Bouche actually <em>snarls</em> in rage as his face turns scarlet and his meaty fists ball up at his sides. He looks just about ready to deck Forte in his powdered, bony face. Monsieur Feuerwerker, a lumberjack, has to hold him back.</p><p> </p><p>Forte is still unbothered and not at all threatened. “And <em>you</em>, mademoiselle, will take care of the decor as usual... since it is the only thing you <em>can</em> do, correct?” he addresses Angelique with a smirk, not caring to remember the blonde’s name or speak to her with respect. This earns him a huff of annoyance and a scowl from the moody woman.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, but you’ll have to find some new decorations, I’m afraid. There ought to be a more….<em>sophisticated</em> ambiance. Lots of black. No bright colors, and certainly none of that glittery, cheerful rubbish.” Then he adds the kicker. Her worst nightmare. “And…. absolutely <em>no </em>mistletoe.”</p><p> </p><p>Everyone gasps and Angelique almost faints as she fans herself, which causes the composer to chuckle sadistically. He looks back at Adam for approval, who gives him a nod and a little smirk as he seems to catch Forte’s drift. This really encourages Forte to go ham.</p><p> </p><p>“And <em>you</em>,” Forte says with glee, stopping in front of the fuming Groundsman Stoker, twin brother of Chef Bouche, “will be in charge of doling out the manual labor.” It wasn’t Stoker himself with whom Forte had a bone to pick, but rather his assistant Groundsman Sheerer, Forte’s arch rival.</p><p> </p><p>Speaking of. “I want you to put that dolt Sheerer in charge of the trees specifically. Yes, I said <em>trees</em>. He’ll need to find the Christmas <em>trees</em>. Not one, not two, but<em> ten...</em>and he had better pick out proper heavy ones from the Black Forest! After all, what is even the <em>point </em><em>of them </em>if they aren’t magnificent and large enough to suit the master’s glory?”</p><p> </p><p>The Maestro can’t help but smile to himself while picturing Sheerer either getting eaten by the Enchantress’s forest wolves, falling through a frozen lake and drowning or getting hypothermia, or at least breaking his back trying to haul a bunch of two-ton trees quite a distance by himself.</p><p> </p><p>Stoker was clearly struggling to prevent himself from lunging at Forte. It seemed the man had a temper just as rash as his brother, but Forte just tuts at him and walks on to the next person, which is….</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Fiiiifffe</em>.” He says that name with a sour tone, looking the wind-player up and down as though he were a rotten pile of garbage. The poor little idiot probably thought he was about to get the opportunity for his solo now...It was the perfect chance to burst his bubble. Forte leans in closer as though he has something important to say and builds up the tension with silence...</p><p> </p><p>Before breaking it anticlimactically. “Try not to get into too much trouble before the performance, would you?” Forte gives him a condescending pat on the cheek that is a bit too rough, and then bypasses him.</p><p> </p><p>Fife whimpers in disappointment and his large eyes go all wobbly, causing the librarian Webster to place a comforting hand on the younger man’s back to console Forte’s delicate little protege.</p><p> </p><p>It was indeed a pitiful sight to behold, but there was no way in <em>hell</em> Forte was putting Fife in charge of the music for the event. That was Forte’s god-given right alone, and Fife was the last backup he would trust with that responsibility anyway.</p><p> </p><p>Reaching the end of the line, Forte waves his hand lazily over to the last two people: Fifi the chambermaid and Madame de la Grande Bouche. “And you two ladies can stick to your regular womanly duties: keeping things clean and looking after the apparel...if that’s not too <em>terribly</em> much to ask of your weak sensibilities?”</p><p> </p><p>Now that everyone is thoroughly pissed at him and disheartened, Forte takes a few steps back to survey the crowd and savor their pain in retribution for all of their perceived wrongs against him, folding his hands behind his back. But he forgot one little detail, he realizes.</p><p> </p><p>“….Oh, and Potts? I may have forgotten to mention this, but you’ll need <em>lots</em> of presents for the Prince since your son was the one who was so adamant on the idea in the first place. Let’s say….fifty by this evening, perhaps, should do it?” He looks back at Adam for approval.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Seventy</em>,” Adam corrects with a bratty little smirk, fully enjoying watching Forte give the staff such a hard time. It <em>was</em> pretty funny to watch Forte roasting them and seeing their faces get all panicked and offender. “I want at<em> least</em> seventy presents...and they should be better than last time, too! You people have had <em>years</em> to think about it.”</p><p> </p><p>Forte stifles a wicked snort of amusement and turns back to the castle staff promptly, nodding at them and absolutely basking in this newly granted authority to boss them around. In fact it was starting to arouse him, this cruel game he and Adam were playing in tandem.</p><p> </p><p>And oh, after so long of being the outcast and ‘punching bag’ of the group so to speak, this petty revenge felt more incredible than words could say. Especially since he knew that bastard Sheerer that he hated the most would be stuck doing a lot of the hard labor involved.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you get all that?” Forte barks over to Le Plume, who looks up to Crane and their boss Webster for approval while he holds up the written parchment for his fellow nerdy cohorts to proofread.</p><p> </p><p>The chief linguist lets go of a sulky Fife and pushes up his small spectacles, leaning forward to look over what Le Plume had written on the page. The older British man then nods shakily up at Forte. “In a word... yes,” he confirms.</p><p> </p><p>“Ya have made tha master’s decrees clear,” Crane, the Scottish notary, agrees. He says it almost remorsefully, as though he were apologizing to the rest of the servants to confirm that they had no choice but to obey Forte since he was speaking on direct behalf of the Prince.</p><p> </p><p>“There you have it, then. Seventy presents it is, so you had better get to work. It’s already nearly six in the morning. The gala may only start this evening but I expect things to be ready by noon, so it sounds like you have a<em> lot</em> to do in a <em>short</em> amount of time,” he goads.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Seventy</em>?” Cogsworth putters as he and Lumiere look between each-other in alarm, as though they hadn’t heard correctly...as though they couldn’t believe that this unsavory malcontent of a man was giving them orders. “But—but surely that’s not--”</p><p> </p><p>“You <em>heard</em> the master, did you not?” Forte cuts them off sharply, pupils dilating further to become even more slit-like and reptilian than usual. “Or do your ears conveniently no longer work?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, but—zis sort of task, it eh...it may not be <em>possible</em>,” Lumiere butts in nervously, trying to smooth things out with his charm, his certain je ne sais quoi...but it doesn’t work on Forte, who bristles at the implication.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you implying that the master is not <em>deserving</em> of seventy presents? That he is not <em>worthy</em> of the effort it would take to fulfill his wishes??” Forte twists their words back on them, leaning in closer to the two men to shout in their faces. “<em>Well?!</em> <em>Is</em> he or is he <em>not</em> worthy?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Y-yes. Very worthy. The <em>most</em> worthy,” Cogsworth peeps, his tiny voice cracking as he and Lumiere grab each-other in fear. Forte could really be intimidating, especially when he was actively <em>trying</em> to be. It was hard not to buckle under his intense eyes and his manipulative questioning.</p><p> </p><p>Forte pauses to stare them dead in the eyes, trying to suss out if they were sincere. Finally, he speaks, his tone now icy and aloof. It was creepy how he could go from livid anger to cold calm in such a short time. “<em>Good</em>,” he comments, backing up from them once he feels he’s given them enough fright to act as sufficient incentive. “Then seventy is what you shall acquire.”</p><p> </p><p>Mouths agape in disbelief, Cogsworth and Lumiere look over at Adam behind Forte, eyes silently pleading with their master to back them up...to set the record straight...to assure them that clearly this wasn’t <em>true</em>. That Forte was just being an unreasonable bully, and this was some sort of prank.</p><p> </p><p>But instead of offering support, Adam just sneers at them, shaking his head at their audacity. “What are you two idiots <em>waiting</em> for?” the Prince growls rudely. “You heard what I want, so get it done.” It’s a clear warning. “You should know by now that I <em>won’t</em> wait all day.”</p><p> </p><p>Forte’s heart flutters in his chest as he looks back at his lover and gives him an adoring smile that the others do not get to see, a smile among the first of its kind on his face. It felt so good to be on the same team as Adam, to have his master backing him up, to be <em>them</em> against the world.</p><p> </p><p>Forte is more than just his master’s confidant now. He has<em> influence, </em>and like hell was he not going to milk the absolute <em>most</em> out of it now that he had Adam’s permission to boss the others around and give them a hard time. It was a rather enticing game between them, really. Like foreplay.</p><p> </p><p>Seeing that same spark of excitement in Adam’s glistening blue eyes, Forte turns back to face the incompetent fools and gives them a smug smirk. He didn’t even have to say a word to convey his message. They knew they had been beaten.</p><p> </p><p>Swallowing a lump of nervousness, Cogsworth, as always, is the first to obey now that the message has been made loud and clear. He grabs Lumiere by the arm, who is scowling and glaring up into Forte’s face defiantly, and drags him away.</p><p> </p><p>The Frenchman is clearly reluctant to let this go, this intense mutual hatred and rivalry between himself and the evil Forte, but he eventually relents and allows Cogsworth to pull him to the door once his arm starts to hurt at the shoulder joint from being pulled so hard.</p><p> </p><p>As Adam watches expectantly, Forte follows the two men to the open door and supervises as they and the rest of the staff start to shuffle out of the room despondently. Yes, they had gotten their Christmas, but with Forte’s additions it might as well have been for nothing.</p><p> </p><p>Once they are all out in the bedroom, Forte places a firm hand on the door and leans in to whisper so that Adam can’t hear him. His hands glow green with magic which scorches the door frame that he is touching.</p><p> </p><p>“Listen to <em>my</em> master, yes, but heed my words: if you make him <em>too</em> happy, I’ll make you <em>pay</em>,” the composer threatened as he dropped all pretense of cordiality and donned an expression of pure evil, his pupils now entirely slitted as one of his eyes twitches like a lunatic. The wood he is clutching sizzles beneath his grip in emphasis of this warning.</p><p> </p><p>Among the shock that Forte still has his powers, it becomes clear to Lumiere in that moment that not only had Forte given them all those complicated instructions to make them labor in misery and ruin their Christmas but also to <em>sabotage</em> them, to make it nigh impossible to follow all those requirements to a T.</p><p> </p><p>But looking into Cogsworth’s frightened, downcast eyes, Lumiere knows the majordomo is right to feel defeated. What could they do about it now? Forte was the only one with magic powers, he had manipulated the Prince under his spell, and they were in love. Forte could get away with anything. Adam would never side with them or listen to reason.</p><p> </p><p>Chip recoils from Forte and hides behind his mother’s bushy skirt. She tries to put on a brave face for him, leading him away as Fife follows behind with the others, sans Lumiere and Cogsworth who linger behind.</p><p> </p><p>Fife, himself still discouraged, nonetheless attempts to comfort the young lad with excuses about how the Maestro was just in a bad mood and that there was nothing to be afraid of. This was the same side of Forte that Fife always saw, so it wasn’t unusual to him.</p><p> </p><p>Knowing they can do nothing but accept that they are about to be in for a really rough time, Lumiere and Cogsworth turn to walk away dejectedly once the others are gone, trying to ignore the sensation of Forte’s seething serpentine eyes drilling holes into the back of their heads.</p><p> </p><p>Not only would they have to slave away to make Adam and Forte’s selfish and depressing vision of Christmas come true, likely for little appreciation in the end, but they could tell that this was only the <em>start</em> of a new chapter in the castle, one where things were <em>always</em> going to be this way...</p><p> </p><p>One where everyone would live under the thumb of a petulant tyrant and his scheming villain of a partner. They had hoped that the curse, that falling in love, would have made Adam a <em>better</em> person. That learning how to love would grant him some empathy and the ability to care about others.</p><p> </p><p>But Forte was only bringing out the worst side of an already troubled man, encouraging his more monstrous qualities...destroying all hope. And they had come up mere minutes ago with such <em>high</em> hopes, too! Now all of it was lost thanks to an irredeemable psychopath.</p><p> </p><p>Once the moping duo have shuffled out of the room and turned the corner to disappear off into the labyrinth of palace corridors, Forte resists the urge to slam the door behind them. He still had to put on a respectable face for Adam, after all. He couldn’t go showing the true instability of his anger.</p><p> </p><p>...But all of that anger washes away anyway the moment he turns around and catches a glimpse of Adam who is now leaning back against the organ once again, this time posed in a position that is far from modest and surely meant to entice.</p><p> </p><p>The younger man took advantage of the fact that his own shirt was already undone and pulled it open a bit more in a coy manner, exposing more flesh so he can sensually trace his graceful fingers down his chest to his pelvis at a tantalizingly slow pace.</p><p> </p><p>Forte’s pupils blow out from slits to full-on orbs now in arousal as he tries to regain his composure under the affects of such a sight. With a hungry smirk he creeps back over to Adam, intending to pick up where he left off and ravish the young man now that all thoughts of those stupid interlopers were out of his mind.</p><p> </p><p>Once he infringes upon Adam, he lowers his face to where those fingers had been stroking and glides his tongue across the Prince’s lower abdomen in a tortuously slow and deliberate way, sucking and kissing lower and lower on his body as he resumes working feverishly to pull down his master’s pants.</p><p> </p><p>Because Adam is partially seated and, stubbornly, isn’t lifting his hips up to help Forte, it is a difficult task and the composer groans against that now-wet and goose-bumped flesh in frustration. He was tired of <em>waiting</em> to claim what was rightfully his!</p><p> </p><p>But instead of assisting in the task, Adam chuckles at making Forte work to have him. Being a little tease was so much fun... especially if it meant that Forte would go <em>harder</em> on him because of it. He had really liked seeing that controlling, uncompromising side of him with the other servants. It was sexy.</p><p> </p><p>And that reminds him…“Do you—mhh!--do you think they’ll be able to do it?” the Prince asks what he hopes is casually, trying to suppress the little gasps that Forte’s oral ministrations against his abdomen and hips were trying so hard to elicit. He didn’t want to seem too wanton, after all.</p><p> </p><p>Huffing a sigh of annoyance that Adam is still thinking about such things, about <em>other people</em>, Forte continues planting hot, wet kisses everywhere he can reach and tugging at those pesky pants insistently. “<em>Master,</em>” he replies in an exhale, as though to ask whether this needed to be addressed at the moment.</p><p> </p><p>But Forte felt Adam’s body go rigid underneath him and he took it as a sign that he couldn’t brush the matter off so easily. He doesn’t stop leaving hickeys behind though, pausing in between his sentences to kiss Adam’s skin. “If they…mhf...cannot fulfill your orders, Master...mhf...then they are poor servants…mhf...and should be punished accordingly.”</p><p> </p><p>Adam relaxes a bit at this and a little groan of excitement and relief exits the musician when he finally succeeds in getting those pants down to Adam’s thighs. The underwear should be much easier to slide down...they only needed to come down far enough to provide Forte the necessary access, after all.</p><p> </p><p>He did want to see Adam’s entire body, oh so very much, but this time it was more important to claim him quickly, to mark his territory as soon as he could. He’d have to wait until later, when he felt more secure in his ownership of the Prince, to undress him fully and bask in his nudity.</p><p> </p><p>“You deserve everything you want and <em>more</em>, Master. Your Forte shall see to it that you get your every desire on this very special Christmas, and every day hereafter,” the Maestro promises, voice like thick honey as he hungrily eyes the hardening bulge hiding just beneath Adam’s underwear.</p><p> </p><p>“I am here but to <em>please</em> you, my lord,” he charms silkily, slipping that pair of soft undergarments down below the Prince’s waistline with little effort this time. He wanted so badly to tease Adam a bit more with his mouth before penetrating him, to fully ravish his perfect body, but unfortunately that too would have to wait.</p><p> </p><p>Realizing that Adam is moving, Forte looks up lecherously, fully expecting to see the young Prince in the throws of passion... but his heart drops into his stomach when he realizes that Adam is instead buttoning up his shirt again and pulling away before Forte can fully expose him from the waist down.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                         Don't get attached </b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                      To anyone or anything</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                     There's nothing worse </b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                     Than things that cling</b> </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“<em>Master?</em>” he can’t help but gasp in a panicked voice, trying to maintain his grip on his lover. No, he wouldn’t allow Adam to get away! Not now, not after so long of waiting! This <em>needed</em> to happen, and it needed to happen <em>now…</em>or else it might <em>never </em>happen...</p><p> </p><p>Or else Adam could change his mind about being with Forte, could decide that Forte wasn’t good enough for him: too old, not royalty, not female...And if such a tragedy <em>were</em> to occur, Forte needed to be intimate with Adam at least once before he could take his own life.</p><p> </p><p>He had already come too close, he had already gotten a taste of it and now he was ruined for it. He couldn’t deny himself the experience. That shipped had sailed. No, he wouldn’t be able to die without knowing what Adam felt like, so tight around him...so warm and soft.</p><p> </p><p>If Forte didn’t get the chance to prove he could take care of Adam’s needs from the get-go, he might not stand a chance to begin with. After all, Adam would surely be <em>much</em> less likely to leave the man who had taken his virginity.</p><p> </p><p>Sex with Adam did not <em>just</em> pleasure, it meant security. It was the only chance Forte stood at permanently keeping Adam under his spell, for truly Forte would give Adam an experience so unforgettable he would be hooked on the pleasure that only Forte could give him.</p><p> </p><p>Forte knew he would be Adam’s one and only sex god, just as soon as he could prove it….And yet clearly the <em>attempt </em>to prove it wasn’t working, because why else would Adam try to leave now? Did he not love Forte anymore? He looked up into Adam’s eyes to search for a sign.</p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, he sees confirmation of Adam’s love in that same playful, affectionate spark in his eyes as before. It’s so potent that it causes Forte to instinctively loosen his grip on Adam, the fire of true love that radiated off of Adam lessening Forte’s anxieties. A bit.</p><p> </p><p>“If you really think that they can pull it off, then that means you have work to do too,” Adam teases in explanation, doing up his pants once again and hopping down from the organ before Forte could use any sort of magic to restrain him again.</p><p> </p><p>Brushing himself off to straighten up his clothes, the royal glances back over his shoulder with a seductive look as though he was some infuriating but sexy imp who was sent here specifically to drive Forte absolutely mad with longing.</p><p> </p><p>“Master? I--” Forte starts to question, trying not to sound too much like he’s protesting. But he is, there’s no avoiding that. He’s confused and horny, and being cock-blocked so many times in a row was bound to wreak havoc on his fragile mental health.</p><p> </p><p>“Some of those seventy presents need to come from <em>you</em>, you know,” Adam cuts him off, elaborating as though he knew Forte would struggle with this. His grin widens mischievously as he watches Forte’s posture deflate and his eyes go wide in worry at the news. It seemed that despite dishing it out, Forte couldn’t take it in turn.</p><p> </p><p>The despondent expression does make Adam take slight pity on his servant. He approaches Forte to cup his cheek in one hand so he can guide his face down and place a soft kiss on the musician’s lips, which causes a blush so furious that it even shows through Forte’s now-smudged makeup.</p><p> </p><p>“If I approve of your gifts...<em>if</em> you do a good job and please me like you said you would, then I’ll show my appreciation tonight, after the party,” the Prince informs in a soft, suggestive voice. “You’re with me now, Forte, so you’ll have to keep up with my demands first.”</p><p> </p><p>Oh, that little tease. Forte, sexually frustrated beyond belief and also rather embarrassed, is loathe to have to wait any longer...but really, Adam’s games were so charming that he couldn’t help but want to play along with them despite himself.</p><p> </p><p>This was the man he had fallen in love with, after all: this bratty, selfish, rebellious Prince who liked to see other people uncomfortable and struggling for his own amusement.</p><p> </p><p>It was a quality they both shared, so how could Forte <em>not</em> be amused on some level by such sly and playful antics, even when they were being used against him? It still charmed his dark heart.</p><p> </p><p>Oh, what would he do with this unruly, cheeky Prince? What <em>could</em> he do but give in and give him everything he asked for and more? He just couldn't help himself. Love had made him this way, even after all that fighting against it. He was truly wrapped around Adam’s finger.</p><p> </p><p>...Until it came to the bedroom, that is...then <em>Forte</em> would finally be the one in control. He just<em> knew</em> he could turn Adam into a begging, panting mess when given the chance without distractions to interfere.</p><p> </p><p>Oh yes, his master was going to <em>get it</em> tonight, for sure. He'd show Adam what carnal pleasure <em>truly</em> was, and then Adam would be the one giving in. All alone together, he could have the ‘beast’ all to himself...</p><p> </p><p>For surely, even though the Prince was human again, he would still be a wild beast in bed...and Forte couldn't wait to tame him over and over again, every night for the rest of their lives, as many times a day as he could steal him. The thought makes him smirk to himself. It was a challenge accepted.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, sir,” he agrees with newfound motivation, placing a hand on his own chest and offering a respectful little bow. “If that is indeed the will of my master, then I had best get to work right away,” he announces his farewell, looking up for permission to depart.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, you’d better,” Adam laughs, gesturing toward the door for Forte to leave. “If you want me later, then you’ll need lots of time to make sure everything is perfect for today. Don’t go thinking I’ll go easy on you just because you’re hot,” he adds with a wink.</p><p> </p><p>This makes Forte smirk fondly at the flattery and the playful challenge. “I wouldn’t <em>dream</em> of it, Master.” Nor would he dream of disappointing Adam. It’s not even an option, and for that reason he is not nervous about finding a bunch of gifts. He doesn’t doubt that he knows Adam well enough this time to please him with his selections.</p><p> </p><p>“You shall be satisfied, I assure you. I know <em>exactly</em> what you want the most.” With that, Forte turns on his heel to exit the room for the first time in years, eyes having to adjust slightly to the brighter light when he walks out into Adam’s bed chambers.</p><p> </p><p>The room where he had faced death head-on...it was the first room he had been in since the curse began, aside from his organ chamber. He glances over at the wall where the stool had been, where he had been ready to jump from before the Enchantress showed up.</p><p> </p><p>The stool wasn’t there anymore and the chain was back on the wall holding up the candelabra, just as it should be. Like nothing precarious had even happened, all evidence of his shame and weakness erased from time. Good riddance, really.</p><p> </p><p>Just as Forte is about to open the doors to leave the Prince’s bedroom, he hears Adam call out “Forte, wait!” from the organ room behind him. The composer practically twirls around, heart beating fast once again in anticipation.</p><p> </p><p>What could it be? Was it something bad, as he always feared…...or could it be something <em>good </em>this time? Had Adam perhaps changed his mind on an impulse and decided that he wished to lay with Forte before the party after all?</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Master?” Hand still gripping the door handle tensely as his libido begins to resurface in that instant, Forte watches as Adam rushes into the room...but instead of approaching Forte directly he takes a detour and stops to rifle through his desk drawers, apparently searching for something.</p><p> </p><p>Seeing Adam pull out a package from one of the drawers, Forte deflates slightly when he realizes this probably has nothing to do with sex, but his curiosity is piqued enough to make up for it when Adam walks over to him with the package and a wide grin on his face.</p><p> </p><p>“Here,” Adam prompted, holding out the relatively thin box-like package to Forte expectantly, waiting for him to take it. He looked a bit impatient when Forte didn’t immediately accept it from him. “Go on, <em>take it, </em>dummy. It’s for you.”</p><p> </p><p>For a moment Forte just stared at the package hesitantly, eyes darting back and forth between the Prince’s face and what he was holding. He wasn’t used to being handed things surreptitiously like this, especially from his master.</p><p> </p><p>What could it be? Long, thin eyebrows quirking in surprise and slight confusion, Forte slowly reaches out to place a hand on the package, looking into Adam’s eyes to make sure it was alright as he began to pull the package toward himself.</p><p> </p><p>Adam let go of it without incident and once it is in Forte’s clutches the musician looks it over carefully, turning it around and then right-way up again. It seemed to be fairly light in weight, and he really couldn’t tell what it was just by shifting it around.</p><p> </p><p>“Well? You just gonna gawk at it, or are you gonna <em>open</em> it?” Adam urged with his usual playful rudeness, moving closer to his composer to watch eagerly and clearly excited to see Forte open it.</p><p> </p><p>Just the fact that this had been so unexpected made Forte nervous, as did the fact that Adam was watching so closely like that. Was this going to be some sort of prank? He couldn’t think of any other reason Adam would have to make him open a mysterious package.</p><p> </p><p>He really couldn’t be sure what to expect, so he slid open the dark green bow cautiously and flinched a bit as he slowly began to pull up the lid of the box. He wasn’t frightened of harm, but if there was something silly inside then he was worried he might look like a fool in front of his master by getting tricked.</p><p> </p><p>Adam snickers at careful way Forte opens it, but he couldn’t really blame the musician for being paranoid. Forte was just a paranoid person in general anyways, and he probably had his reasons. “It’s a <em>gift</em>, in case you couldn’t figure it out on your own,” Adam teased sarcastically. “For Christmas.”</p><p> </p><p>“A—a gift?” Forte repeats dumbly, eyes darting up to Adam in shock. “You—you got me a <em>gift</em>, Master?” The Maestro is unsure of what to think or say, mainly because he is so confused. He had never expected<em> this</em> in a million years. It was really too good to be true, just like everything about today had been.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Why</em>?” Forte couldn’t help but ask, sounding less grateful than he had intended....but this was just so unlike Adam! The Prince had never given a gift to anyone, not even his own blood relatives!</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I don’t usually do this,” Adam tried to brush it off casually as though it were no big deal. “It’s not even from this year. I forgot I even had it...but that thing you said about knowing what <em>I</em> wanted reminded me of it so I…. I wanted you to see it now, while we’re still alone.”</p><p> </p><p>The prospect makes Forte’s nerves disappear for the most part and now he’s just excited and so very flattered. He wonders just what sort of gift Adam could have gotten for him before they were even friends let alone lovers. It was probably something random, no doubt.</p><p> </p><p>They hadn’t known each-other very closely back then so it really couldn’t be anything that Forte would have picked out for himself, but no matter what it was he would still cherish it because it had come from Adam. With Adam, it really <em>was</em> the thought that counted because said thought was rarer than gold and even more valuable.</p><p> </p><p>Discarding the lid, Forte peers into the box with a proud smile...but it falters into a look of bewilderment when he sees a book of his own compositions staring back at him, one he had written quite some time ago. While he <em>had</em> been particularly proud of the work inside it, it was an odd thing to see staring back at him now.</p><p> </p><p>Remembering that Adam is watching, Forte tries to regain his composure and forces a stretched smile on his face to try to look genuine and grateful. “Um….thank you, Master! This was—it is very <em>thoughtful</em> of you.” Poor Adam had tried his best and, if anything, Forte could appreciate that.</p><p> </p><p>Rolling his eyes, Adam yanks the box from Forte and pulls the book out, handing it to his lover and tossing the empty box on the floor. “<em>Open</em> it, genius,” he says sarcastically, amused that Forte apparently thought him stupid enough to give the man his own book as a present.</p><p> </p><p>Quirking a brow, Forte does as requested and opens up the cover of the book, still not sure what Adam expects him to see….But when he flips over to the second page, which was originally blank, he sees something that wasn’t there previously: a note of some sort, scribbled on the yellowed paper in fancy letters.</p><p> </p><p>“What...” Forte mumbled under his breath, leaning in to get a closer look. The first thing that jumped out at him was that the writing style looked familiar somehow. It looked like….almost like….but no, it <em>couldn’t</em> be….could it? His normally steady hands started shaking when he began to read and realized it <em>was</em>.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Maestro Forte,</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I seem to recall having heard your name repeated within my circle for quite some time over the years. It seems you are a rather popular fellow, and I regret that we have not yet had the chance to meet. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Though, I am glad that some of my acquaintances have passed along this book of your work for me to look through. The King of France speaks highly of you and, from what I have read, his words of praise are not unearned. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I have come to learn that you have taken inspiration from what I do within your own work, and I am most flattered. The resulting compositions you have created speak of your utmost talent and potential. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Should we cross paths in the future I would be most interested to converse with you about the stories behind your pieces, that intriguing piano concerto of yours in particular. I have a feeling it will become timeless.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>God bless, </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>J.S. Bach</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Forte’s eyes scan over the note about a thousand times, though his hands are trembling so fiercely that he can barely even read it anymore. He can’t help it. He’s in shock, eyes wide and quivering mouth agape. He tries to say something but no coherent noise comes out, just a strangled rasp.</p><p> </p><p>Looking over Forte’s arm to skim the letter himself, Adam smirks a bit at seeing Forte so speechless and caught off guard. He rests his head against Forte’s shoulder and keeps smirking when he feels the composer trembling against him.</p><p> </p><p>“H-<em>how</em>?….” Forte eventually croaks out, eyes still glued to the page and fingers gripping onto it like talons. Surely this couldn’t be real, after all! For most of his young adulthood, it had been his life’s <em>dream</em> to meet Bach. The man was an inspiration, a legend, a <em>hero</em>!</p><p> </p><p>But...Bach had died years ago, before Forte could have the chance to meet him. He had long ago, even before Bach’s death, come to accept that Bach would likely never even know who he was no matter how big he got, let alone offer any <em>feedback</em> on his music.</p><p> </p><p>“My father went to meet the King of Germany a few years ago. I heard that this guy was going to be at the royal court as well, and I remembered you used to talk about him a lot in my lessons, so... I thought you might want his autograph or something.</p><p> </p><p>I took one of your books and gave it to my father to get it signed…he probably just did it to shut me up or something. I didn’t know this music guy was going to read your stuff and comment on it, but it’s kind of cool that he did…. right?”</p><p> </p><p>Adam asked this with a hopeful look on his face, trying to see if Forte would be mad that he had stolen his book and had it shown to someone he looked up to without his consent. Adam always had a habit of not really considering people’s boundaries before…</p><p> </p><p>But from the happily stunned look on Forte’s face, he is anything but upset. Trying to steady his rapid breathing, he looks down at Adam in disbelief, thumb brushing over the ink on the page that spelled out the initials of Johann Sebastian Bach.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh...oh my <em>heavens</em>, Master!” he exclaims in a shaky voice, overwhelmed by sheer surprise, joy, and flattery. Not only had <em>Bach</em> of all people read his work and given him such high words of praise, but this also meant that Adam had, even all that time ago, been paying attention to Forte after all.</p><p> </p><p>It meant that, at a time when Forte thought Adam hated him, Adam had actually gone out of his way to think about Forte and get him something nice. Not only <em>nice</em>, but something specifically catered to Forte’s interests! Sure he had stolen his property, but it had been more than worth it in the end!</p><p> </p><p>Forte feels suddenly dizzy at this realization, light on his feet as though he may swoon. Thankfully, Adam is there leaning against him so he is able to use that as anchorage, but he hopes that Adam doesn’t feel his knees trembling.</p><p> </p><p>“You...I can’t believe you….<em>how</em> did you...oh, oh my heavens...” he stammers. Drunk with a disgusting amount of happiness, Forte wraps his robed arms tightly around Adam, not caring how hard he squeezed him in this moment.</p><p> </p><p>“Master,” he whispers, “<em>thank you.</em> This is better than anything I could have asked for. <em>All </em>of this: the note, yes, but most importantly <em>you</em>...Oh, my master, I love you so dreadfully much that I fear it might kill me.” His voice is suddenly strained, as though worried that such emotions really <em>could</em> kill him on the spot.</p><p> </p><p>Squeezing back with one arm, Adam uses the other hand to brush away a couple of stray tears that ran down the composer’s cheek, which causes a stain of wet makeup to coat his finger. He wipes it off against Forte’s black robe, but Forte doesn’t seem to care.</p><p> </p><p>“Ok, ok...Merry Christmas, Forte...I’m happy you liked your present,” he says with an awkward smirk, avoiding the composer’s now-reddened eyes. “But don’t get <em>too</em> used to it,” he adds, just having to make some kind of joke to lighten the mood. He couldn’t go seeming too nice.</p><p> </p><p>It seemed to go in one ear and out the other, though, as Forte stares into Adam’s face with a gaze that becomes lustful again. “Oh, <em>Master.</em>” Leaning in closer and closer, Forte growls and forcefully claims his lover in a messy kiss, grip on Adam tightening possessively.</p><p> </p><p>The stolen Prince makes a noise of amusement against Forte’s lips and indulges in the kiss for a moment. It does feel nice but he pulls back after a minute, not wanting Forte to get too carried away and forget himself in the passion.</p><p> </p><p>He had only been with Forte for around an hour and <em>already</em> he was learning that the composer had a sex drive to match the gods. Adam didn’t mind, though. He found it amusing, and it also meant he’d be able to take advantage of it to get what he wanted.</p><p> </p><p>And, speaking of...“The sooner you get to work, the sooner you can show me how awesome I am for giving you this gift,” he hinted with a grin, un-draping his arms from Forte’s shoulders and shifting the composer’s wig askew on one side as he does, just to be a little pest.</p><p> </p><p>Although Forte is still desperate to have his way with Adam, especially given the passionate gratitude that ran through his veins at the moment, Forte reluctantly lets go of his lover and straightens the wig on his head so that it is in place once again.</p><p> </p><p>He’d have to go find a mirror to fix up his makeup too, as he couldn’t have the others seeing him in such a discordant state. After all, he needed to present himself in a respectable manner if they were to take him seriously now that he would be bossing them around.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, your highness,” Forte whispers unevenly and out of breath, still unable to fully stop that love-struck twinkling gleam in his usually-dead eyes from showing. Adam was so wonderful, and the composer would need to try <em>extra</em> hard to make everything special for him now. To give him the world in the palm of his hand!</p><p> </p><p>Own hands still shivering in excitement, Forte holds the signed book up close to his chest like a vow. “I shall keep this safe in my company and treasure it forever, Master,” he assures, “most of all because it comes from <em>you</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Adam mumbles uncomfortably, waving it off and giving Forte a gentle slap on the shoulder. “I get it. You like it….No need to get all sensitive on me, Forte. You’ll melt into a puddle or something and I’m not cleaning it up.”</p><p> </p><p>But the shy glimmer of joy hiding deep within Adam’s eyes shows that he acknowledges Forte’s gratitude and is relieved that Forte was so pleased with the gift. Relieved that he had somehow managed to make his lover <em>happy</em>.</p><p> </p><p>It was the first time that Adam felt like he had ever been able to please someone with something he did, to not disappoint them. Nothing Adam did had ever been good enough before Forte came along, which was especially meaningful considering Forte was such a gloomy gus.</p><p> </p><p>This unspoken understanding was all Forte needed now to know that Adam was genuine behind his wall of awkwardness. He wouldn’t embarrass his lord further by calling him out for trying to act tough despite being all soft inside for Forte.</p><p> </p><p>No, he would respect Adam’s comfort zone in this one way and let him keep his pretend games of superiority. The Prince deserved it, after everything he had gone through. He deserved to feel safe and validated.</p><p> </p><p>“As you wish, Master,” Forte concedes with a knowing little smirk, bowing low at his waist to give Adam one final farewell with the book still held tucked against himself like a Bible. “In that case, I shall be <em>seeing</em> you later,” he emphasized suggestively.</p><p> </p><p>“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Adam grins mischievously, trying to cover up how much he really <em>did</em> want that, how aroused he still was. How much he wanted to <em>not</em> be a brat playing power games and just let Forte fuck him senseless right then and there. “Now get lost, before I kick you out,” he manages.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, sir.” Straightening up, Forte nods at Adam’s deceptively casual farewell and turns back to the doors to exit the Prince’s chambers with a straight posture and calm steps. “I shall take my leave for now.”</p><p> </p><p>As soon as he is alone, though, Forte lets out a frantic breath as his body turns to jelly again and his facade of composure melts, finally releasing all of the pent up emotions he had been holding in up to this point. Good thing there was no one in the hallway.</p><p> </p><p>Relief, pleasure, joy, shock, love, and pride all tore through his essence as he panted and hugged the book tight against his heart with both hands. This was the first real moment he had to himself since he and Adam had that fight and subsequently got together, and there was <em>so</em> much to process.</p><p> </p><p>It was finally hitting him, the reality of the situation. It didn’t feel like a dream anymore, instead he felt so in-the-moment that every one of his senses was on fire and stimulated to the maximum. He could feel every <em>molecule</em> interacting in the air around him, sparks of magic tingling his skin.</p><p> </p><p>Body on fire with sensation, he has to <em>force</em> himself to walk forward down the corridors, and as he does his eyes scan a portrait of the Prince that he walks past. The rising morning sun’s rays shone down upon it and illuminated Adam’s painted image in an angelic glow.</p><p> </p><p>Gaze lingering on that picture as he walks by, Forte glides his tongue across his own lips and teeth, groaning darkly in pleasure at the taste of Adam that remained there, richer than blood and sweeter than any fine wine in his collection. It felt like deja vu.</p><p> </p><p>Just like the morning of the curse when he had interrupted Adam having his shoes done up, Forte walked down this very same hallway with the taste of blood on his tongue, only this time it had been accompanied by filthy promises of <em>desire </em>rather than anger and hostility.</p><p> </p><p>Oh, how good it felt to get this second chance! In contrast to the past, this time Forte was in an elated mood and he had butterflies in his stomach for an entirely <em>different</em> reason. Not nervousness, no, not at all...and certainly not pain or grief. This time it was because he knew that Adam <em>cared, </em>and knowing that was worth all the pain of the past.</p><p> </p><p>If Forte hadn’t suffered so terribly back then, this outcome likely never would have been attained. If he <em>hadn’t </em>spent his days falling deeper and deeper into the despair of sleepless nights, alcohol and madness, he never would have been unstable enough to make the deal with the witch.</p><p> </p><p>Though he was still likely in for a lot of sleepless nights, for surely a wild flame like Adam would be nearly impossible to satiate. They could stay up and drink <em>together</em>, this time with the added bonus of being able to enjoy each-other physically.</p><p> </p><p>Before the spell, Forte had to rely on the company of his own hands to occupy himself on those drunken nights and quell his turbulent lust. Though they were exceptionally talented hands, granted, they still were not able to make up for what he was missing, nor could they live up to the pleasures of his fantasies.</p><p> </p><p>Just like those times, Forte would have to make do with that again right now. Even though he intended to get to work on those Christmas gifts as quickly as possible, there was no way he would be able to focus on <em>anything</em> before relieving himself of the urge that Adam had so cruelly worked him up to.</p><p> </p><p>He had to stop at his own chambers to fix up his makeup anyways, so he might as well take advantage of the opportunity to relieve himself while he was alone there. It’s not like it would take him long to finish himself at this point, it had even been a struggle not to explode that final time Adam had touched him.</p><p> </p><p>But Forte didn’t mind taking care of himself this one time because he knew that he would be able to be touched by Adam after and to touch Adam like that in turn, to reciprocate the utmost of euphoria with the love of his life…. It aroused him even further, and he felt grateful beyond words for this blessing.</p><p> </p><p>The Enchantress, tricky as she was, had ultimately kept her word. It was delayed, but this <em>was</em> the Christmas day he had never gotten all those years ago and it was well worth the wait. Instead of ending in tragedy, it would end intimately with Adam.</p><p> </p><p>He had been wrong back then to think that love was a threat to them. Their love <em>was</em> dangerous, yes...but only to those who got in its way. It turned out that being bolted by love’s bonds wasn't so bad, as long as those bonds tied him to Adam rather than the wall. That way, the chains could be used to <em>choke</em> anyone who tried to get between them.</p><p> </p><p>...Such as those pesky servants. They were <em>not</em> about to cash in on Forte’s happy ending, that was for certain! He would see to<em> that</em> if it was the last thing he did. Those ingrates had had their time, but now it was <em>his</em> chance to triumph, <em>his</em> chance to monopolize Adam...and now Adam wanted that, too!</p><p> </p><p>How things really <em>had</em> changed between them. After all, their argument was not the first time that Forte had desperately warned Adam not to fall in love. He had been too frightened at the time to reveal his true intentions, so he had tried to act as some sort of older, wise adviser doling out life advice.</p><p> </p><p>It was a role he had taken on any time that Adam would speak of wanting the curse to be lifted. He had been afraid not only of Adam being driven mad by the same torment that plagued <em>him</em>, but also of losing his Prince to another’s arms.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                          You'll go to pot</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                       You'll turn to drink</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                        You'll never rest</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                       You'll end up mad</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                        And looking like </b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                Some poor demented dove</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                        Don't fall in love</b> </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Yes. ‘<em>Don’t fall in love, </em><em>Master,</em>’, he would remind Adam, ‘<em>it will only cause you tremendous pain</em>.’ But, as he makes his way into the privacy of his own chambers to prepare for the day ahead, Forte realizes that he had been omitting the most important part this whole time.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <b>                                                      Don't. Fall. In love!</b> </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>'.<em>...with anyone but me</em>.'</p>
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